


Sweet Turmoils

by andromedomai



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics), Superman - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Arkham Breakout, Batfamily Feels, Clara Kent - Freeform, Denial of Feelings, F/F, F/M, Female Clark, Gen, Genderbending, Genderswap, Harassment, His name is Karr-El, How did I forget that, I'm Sorry, Identity Porn, Kinda, Like ayooo crazy, M/M, Male Kara, New 52, Psychological Torture, Rule 63, Solar Flare, Torture, UST as fuck, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Well this has been one hell of a ride, Yes I know, what is this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-17
Updated: 2017-02-13
Packaged: 2018-09-09 07:42:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 29,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8881924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andromedomai/pseuds/andromedomai
Summary: Clara Kent is in Gotham for a Planet job and Bruce invites her to a dinner in the Manor. Everything is going perfectly, so perfectly that Bruce just knows that something has to be wrong.Well, ditto.Enter, hostages, an Arkham Breakout, Joker, the Batfamily, the Supers and petty arguments —a.k.a. a lot of Trouble.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Hello again, everybody! So, quick details that you should know about this fic.
> 
> This is set in the N52 universe, so Super(wo)man’s origin is according to that version. But Kon-El/Superboy is more like the Teen Titans (2003) version, because I like him better that way –origin wise and personality wise. Also, his relationship with Clara is fixed up and stable, Clara is basically a surrogate mother to Kon. And, I realized with both Kara and Clara around, Superwoman wouldn’t be the Last Daughter of Krypton, so I decided to make a male!Kara, a.k.a. Superlad –yep, just like the one in Earth-11. Both him and Superboy will appear later in the story. 
> 
> Now, the age range.
> 
> Bruce is 31, Clara is 29 (22 in the start of N52, 25 when she first met with Batman and formed the JL), Barbara is 23, Karr and Dick are 21, Jason is 20, Tim and Kon are 16, Cassandra is 14 and Damian is 12.

### Chapter 1

 _Well, I think this place should’ve been warmer than this in September,_ thought Clara, just as she was getting out of the train. _But, hey, it is Gotham, after all._

Of course, being a Kryptonian and all, Clara wasn’t even supposed to feel cold or shiver lightly at the chill in the air. But not everything was as resolute as one would expect from Superwoman’s life. Because even Superwoman couldn’t have predicted the things that had happened three days ago.

Clara sighed, her expression sad once again. Her last showdown with Ulysses, a.k.a. Neil Quinn, the energy absorber, the Last Son of Earth*, flashed before her eyes for the thousandth time that day. 

She could still remember the sadness and guilt, along with the pure rage she felt when Ulysses threatened to destroy the Earth out of vengeance. He had openly stated that he didn’t even cared his parents being on the planet, too. _He was going to destroy all of them,_ Clara tried to remind herself, again. _He was dead-set on burning our world. I had to…_ When he’d said he would burn the Earth using the powers he mimicked from her, she had finally let the already unstable control of her heat vision… and, quite literally, erupted, breaking Ulysses’ energy siphoning (but not killing him though, _never_ killing him) and revealing a new super power.

Her Super Solar Flare.

At first, when she’d finally regained consciousness, half naked and wearing only what’s left of her Kryptonian suit, it sounded somewhat… cool. I mean, she had the power to freaking explode, for God’s sake! But obviously, there were consequences, and like everything else concerning Superwoman, they were quite dangerous, crucial even.

First of all, she had no control over this flare. Sure, it didn’t happen randomly or when she lost control of her emotions, and she was quite thankful for that. But when she exploded, her flare destroyed everything within a quarter mile radius. And it scared the hell out of her. Which was the reason using heat vision was completely out of question. Because she knew she couldn’t control it without erupting all over again.

Clara breathed through her hands in an attempt to warm them. God, she should’ve wore something warmer. Yep, she officially hated cold.

And, in addition to that, there was another side-effect, but it was slightly better and less deadly than the other two –though the League begged to differ, much to Clara’s irritation.

After using the solar flare, Clara would lose her powers for the next 24 hours.

It wasn’t as bad as she’d originally thought. Obviously, things like feeling the cold and not being able to hear her friends’ heartbeats were always worrying her. And the times like the one when she had to wear her Superwoman costume and stand up against a man with a gun, even though she had no bullet-proof skin, were also slightly worrying. But the other things, the normal things… They were easy, hell, _easier_ to manage. Though the best thing was food. It tasted so much better without actually feeling the molecules or every ingredient on her tongue. It was more delicious, more _human._

But honestly, considering everything, it didn’t actually made much of a difference to her. She still stopped crimes, still wore her suit under civilian clothes, still went to her job at _the Planet,_ still endured Lois’ rants and still joined the League meetings after her blasts.

 _Blasts?_ you may ask. 

Oh, yeah, the flare had been present, more than once.

What? She needed to learn how to control it.

The League still didn’t approve her attempts of control in every 24 hours, which had happened two more times after the first one. Some of her friends thought that it would hurt her and others –actually, one _specific_ someone- thought it could be dangerous to humans. But they all knew it was important for her to learn how to control it –to assure the safety of the others and herself, as well. And they also knew she would be hesitant to be Superwoman without full control ( _‘And that wouldn’t be of any use to the League in a fight,’_ had said that _specific_ someone.) so they’d reluctantly agreed.

Though even after the third 24 hours’ time, Clara still felt… somewhat weak. Not completely at her peek and still sort of vulnerable.

Which was why she’d decided to take a train to Gotham.

She would have to practice controlling the flare later –Clara was almost certain that she could manage it- but right now…

She was Clara Kent, the investigative reporter from _the Daily Planet,_ walking in the streets of Gotham for a front page interview, with the CEO of the Wayne Enterprises. The Wayne Enterprises were launching a new series of data and monitoring systems, and as usual, they were doing it with a huge gala. Obviously the whole sophisticated and rich elites of Gotham were going to be there too, so somebody on the Planet had to cover the story. It wasn’t Clara’s type of work, not really, but she had grabbed the opportunity to visit Gotham and _the Batfamily_ (what, it was a totally established term, invented by Clara Kent) right in the air. It had taken her boss, Perry White, some convincing, but after a lot of huge, baby blue, puppy eyes, he had let her spend the whole week in Gotham –in return of some extra interviews, with important connections. 

If it was someone else, that promise would probably be an empty one. But for Clara, getting an appointment with Lucius Fox was the easiest thing on the world. Hell, she could get herself invited to the Wayne Manor if she wanted to.

Which was, actually where she was going at the moment.

She opened the yellow door of the cab, told the man the address and tried not to notice his shocked and suddenly all-too-respectful face. She was starting to regret turning down the car offer to take her from the station and to the Manor.

Clara really hoped Alfred would make her some hot chocolate.

\----  


“C’mon, everyone! She can be here in any minute!” shouted Dick. He was currently trying on a blue and black plaid shirt over his plain white t-shirt and black jeans. He adjusted the collar and the sleeves, then turned around to look himself in the mirror. “God, do I look good? Do you think the plaid is too casual? What if she’s wearing something similar? _Jason,_ help me!”

“First of all, Grayson, if you stop whining, I actually might.” Jason rolled his blue eyes at his overly dramatic boyfriend while laying back on Dick’s soft bed with his arms crossed under his head. “Secondly, relax. It’s just Clara, I bet it wouldn’t do any difference to her whether you’re wearing a shirt or a tuxedo, she’s too nice to say anything bad. And thirdly, why the hell are you trying to look good for her? You’re taken, I’m your fucking boyfriend.”

“Being a possessive boyfriend kinda fits your character, Jason,” snickered Barbara, from the soft, red couch she was currently sitting. “It’s very _macho._ ”

“I’m not trying to look good for anyone,” said Dick, while he was trying to fix his messy dark hair. “It’s just… it has been months since I last saw Clara, and I’m really excited about seeing her. And, _for God’s sake, Jason,_ you’re still not helping!”

Jason sighed loudly and threw his hands in the air, like silently asking or probably internally screaming _Why me?_

“Yeah, you keep on _not_ trying to impress anyone, Dick,” said Tim, while he was trying to read and not smile, from the armchair in the corner he claimed. “It’s not like we don’t know about the forever long, humongous _crush_ you had on Clara.”

Dick tripped over the air while he was hurriedly walking to his wardrobe. Despite his best efforts, he was furiously blushing and desperately trying not to show it. When he managed to steady himself, he ignored his laughing teammates, crossed his arms like a 5-year-old boy and childishly _‘hmph’_ ed. “Like any of you don’t crush on her,” he said, like that was an undeniable fact that no one could… well, deny. “Every single bat, including Babs, Cass and _Damian,_ has a crush on _Superwoman._ We literally have no immunity against her, ever. Your argument is _freaking invalid._ ”

Barbara and Cass looked at each other and shrugged. While Cass -who was leaning against Barbara’s couch and sitting on the ground with her legs crossed- silently nodded, Barbara calmly stated, “I mean, he’s not wrong.”

“He _is!_ ” shouted Damian. “I’m not crushing on that _alien!_ ”

“Oh, yeah?” interfered Tim, not-so-secretly enjoying the way everybody acted like a bunch of kindergarten kids. “Then why were you blushing red like a lit Christmas tree when Clara gave you a set of throwing knives for your birthday?”

Cass silently giggled while Damian blushed in a shade that would match the Flash’s suit. _“I did not!”_

“Yeah, whatever, Demon,” said Jason, shrugging. “I’m not even denying after all these years. Fuck the age difference, moralities and interspecies issues. She’s totally smokin’.”

But the truth was, Jason had a special connection with Clara that nobody in the room ever had. Sure, since Dick was the first Robin and had known Clara for longer, he actually _knew_ her. Their relationship was deeper than any of theirs, as Clara had helped Dick became his own hero, Nightwing, after he and Bruce had a pretty rough time. And obviously, she helped both of them to restore their father-son relationship by becoming a calm, patient, steady bridge between Gotham and Blüdhaven. Dick greatly admired Clara, while she saw him like a little brother. Barbara had her as the big sister she never had, as a confidant about her love life and as a _healthy_ instructor (seriously, not everyone could _understand_ Bruce and his complex personality) to maintain the balance between Barbara Gordon and Batgirl/Oracle. Cass liked to talk to her about anything and everything as Clara knew sign-language like a pro. Tim really liked her because she was totally cool, liked reading, and helped him in his relationship with Kon. Even Damian was having a hard time finding logical reasons to hate her –and that was a big deal with the youngest Robin.

But with Jason though, it was different.

Everybody knew that he was beaten to a pulp and killed brutally by the Joker, and then resurrected by Talia al Ghul when he was only 15. But nobody ever knew, before his rearrival to Gotham, he had passed through Metropolis and caused quite trouble there, prompting Superwoman to interfere. But instead of delivering Jason to the police, Clara had taken him to her little apartment, took care of him, listened when he needed to talk about the horrible nightmares he had, and just simply _understood_ him. She understood because she was kind and caring, but she also understood because she had been through similar things, through dying, living in abyss for an unknown time and coming back to life, too. And for all that, Jason felt like he’d be in her debt, forever. Also, he always liked her, even before everything went wrong. Not that he would tell any of this to anyone. Or Clara.

“Well, I feel like I have to deny, at least a little,” Tim said, brining Jason back to present. “Because it sounds a little gross and kinda awkward crushing on my boyfriend’s surrogate mother, but…” He shrugged, too. “Whatever. No use in lying to anyone.”

“Hey,” started Barbara, a genuinely thoughtful expression on her face. “It just came to me, but do you think when we say every bat, does it include _every_ bat, hmm?” 

“What ever do you mean, Gordon?” asked Damian, frowning confusedly.

“I mean, do you think… _Bruce_ … also has… _a thing,_ for Clara?”

In three seconds of silence, everybody seemed to think about it. Then a very sharp and sarcastic laugh cut through it. “Yeah, right, Babs,” said Jason, while wiping away an invisible tear. “Good one, really.”

Dick ignored his boyfriend and turned to Barbara, who also ignored Jason, and said, “I don’t know,” with a serious face. “And I hate not knowing things about Bruce or Clara. We should investigate this, Babs.”

“How the hell do we do that?” 

“Maybe we could keep a really close eye on him?”

“Try to outfox the detective that taught all of us?” asked Tim. “Yeah, right.”

“But he’s so dense when it comes to emotions and human feelings,” said Barbara. “Maybe he would slip.”

“Hmm, maybe.”

“Well, whether he feels something or not, it won’t be easy to find out,” said Tim. “Bruce is so emotionally awkward that it’s not even funny anymore.”

Then he felt a tug on his sleeve and turned to look at the silent Asian girl. Cass made a few complicated hand gestures in sign language, which only Tim knew it fluent enough to understand Cass. _Ask Alfred?_

“Yeah, Cass, good thinking!” Tim said before turning to the others. “Cass says we should talk to Alfred. I think if we tried really hard, he could agree to be our conspirator. He could tell us the things we don’t exactly know about Bruce –or Clara, y’know.”

“Brilliant, Cassie!” exclaimed Dick with a radiant smile. “I bet dear ol’ Alfie would just love some _Batfam_ gossiping!”

“Hmm, or we’d have to bribe him into talking about his master,” added Barbara, face seriously serious. She obviously enjoyed being a gossip mongering detective.

“Well, shit. I didn’t think of that.”

“Yeah, well, I still think we could inspect Bruce,” said Barbara. “I think he’s learned not to question our strange behavior by now.”

“You are not inspecting my Father against his will, Gordon!”

“You mean, you’re gonna watch and _stalk_ old Bats to see invisible specks of human emotions?” deadpanned Jason, voice _exceptionally_ bored. “Yay.”

“Stop being sarcastic, Jason, and give me the hair gel on my drawer.”

“Fuck you, _Richard,_ I’m not your slave!”

Dick caught the hair gel aimed at his face before it hit the target.

 _“Nobody is stalking my Father!”_ growled Damian.

“C’mon, Damian, aren’t you curious?” asked Barbara. “Not even a little bit?”

“I…”

Then, before Damian could even start to deny the obvious, the bell sound rang trough the Manor. Everybody excitedly got up and started to make their way to downstairs, including Damian. I mean, sort of, not that he’d admit anything.

Well, actually, everybody but one.

_“OH MY GOD, SHE’S HERE AND I’M STILL NOT READY!”_

\----

Bruce rolled up the sleeves of his expensive light blue shirt, then unfolded them once more. It almost seemed like the sleeves didn’t look right in either way. 

He rolled soft fabric up again. It wasn’t the first time Clara Kent was visiting the Wayne Manor, so no matter what his butler had said, he was _not_ nervous. In fact, waiting for a guest to arrive was the most mundane thing he had to do in this week. He had no reason to be nervous in the first place, it was just Clara.

He looked at the large dinner table Alfred had set up for the evening. It was the first time in 6 months that he, his kids, Barbara and Clara were going to spend the night together, so Alfred had prepared quite a feast for them. He could see the obvious happiness in his old friend’s eyes, which was rare, and it made him happy and guilty at the same time. 

He rolled the sleeves down again and unbuttoned a few first buttons of his shirt. _Come on, Wayne, Clara never cares about how people look,_ he scolded himself. _And it shouldn’t matter to you, even if she ever did. It’s just Superwoman._

Superwoman. Yes, that part of Clara had taken Bruce a longer time to trust. Their first encounter was quite… intense and complicated –due to their unplanned trip (understatement of the year) into another Earth, where they were… engaged to be married. But -like what happened wasn’t enough- the whole thing had become even more complicated after some New God, Kaiyo, the Chaos Bringer, had wiped away their memories.** 

There was an image of her imprinted in his mind, though –left behind, or maybe too permanent to erase. It had been so... _vivid_ that even after his memories had been taken away from him, the image was still there. Bruce had spent days to remember what had happened –but only to stop at some point with profound dissapointment.

Then, three years later, after the establishment of Woman of Steel and the Bat of Gotham, after their eventful first (second) meeting in Metropolis –confused and angry at the chaos Darkseid had brought in- they had become allies and matched their partly restored memories, roughly guessing what had happened. Their next showdown with Kaiyo had confirmed those theories to be true.

But, Bruce thought, even after all of that, after a hundred years or wiped memories, he would still remember the very first time he ever saw her.

She had fallen from the dark skies of Gotham, like a beautiful angel of death, with shoulder-length black hair, lame S shield t-shirt, denim short shorts, flaring red cape and the _bluest blue_ eyes. He remembered being angry, totally distrustful, slightly scared and hundred percent ready to kill her if the need ever aroused. Because even back then, after the initial five seconds, he had known that she could kill him with a sneeze in the blink of an eye.

But she had never done that, never even tried… Well, at least not after Kaiyo had de-possessed her, that is.

At first –and later, when they officially met again- Bruce thought she was stubborn, reckless, arrogant, ignorant, self-righteous, uncontrollable, dumb and very dangerous. But in years –four years and ten months, to be precise- he had _learned_ her. He had learned to see the humble, shy, kind, selfless, clever (incredibly so), strong and beautiful mild-mannered farm girl she really was. Learned that there was no need for him to try to control her, because she would never abuse her powers. Learned to truly listen to her, because she was as lost and alone as he was. Learned to understand how human she was in the things that mattered. Learned to see Kala–El of Krypton _and_ Clara Kent at the same time. 

For the first time in a very long while, Bruce had learned to trust someone, the most powerful being in the galaxy, with his own life.

Because Clara had crawled her way under his skin, into his heart, become his confidant, partner, comrade in arms – _his best friend._ And now, dare he hoped, maybe something more.

And all of this terrified Bruce like hell.

He rolled his sleeves up.

“If it was something else, Master Bruce,” spoke a calm, British accented voice. “I would be deeply concerned about your inner rantings. However, in this situation, I suppose it can be considered as… quite normal, sir.”

Bruce did not jump slightly when he turned around to face the butler. “What do you mean, Alfred?”

“Miss Kent, sir. Isn’t she the real reason of your lately increasing quirky movements and fidgeting?”

Normally, Bruce was an expert at hiding his feelings and emotions. He would ask the questions, save the day, turn his back and leave, and answer to no one. He was the _goddamned_ Batman. And that would apply to anyone, _anyone…_

Except Alfred. Because he was, also, the _goddamned_ Alfred.

“W-what? No!”

Bruce’s voice did not quivered. It definitely did _not._

Alfred put the silver tray filled with glasses, turned to Bruce and raised one thin eyebrow at him. “Master Bruce, despite my objections, I was always proud of how you turned out to be the Batman, the hero I knew you’d become. But, it still saddens me that you have not understood one, simple thing, as the World’s Greatest Detective, to this day. You, sir, are _not_ capable of lying to _me._ Especially not about your… _feelings._ ”

Bruce seriously didn’t know whether to be amused by his friend’s sass, or to be embarrassed at getting caught lying. Not that his lie was as professional as it should’ve been, but still...

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Why he was digging deeper, Bruce didn’t even know.

And naturally, Alfred was taking none of his shit. “You may think you’re discreet, but not to me, sir. Excluding the first time you two encountered, Miss Kent has been a regular part of Bruce Wayne’s and Batman’s life in the past years. And when you showed her the Batcave, I knew how much you trusted her –maybe even more so than you trust yourself. Do not think about denying it, sir, you rely on her with _your children’s life._ I have not seen anyone else with the ability to make you a functioning human after a night with dealing the Joker. Also, to quote Master Jason, you do look like a _love-sick puppy_ after spending time with her. And quite frankly, I am tired of your constant sexual tension and frustration. I do not know how long it has taken you to understand it, but at least you did understand you have, indeed, fallen for her, quite hard. So I understand your distress, sir. But to put it rather bluntly, I think you ought to pull your head out of your arse and make a move in the upcoming century.”

Bruce marveled at how easily Alfred could leave him speechless. He thought about ending the conversation and run away. But that was what he did all the time, wasn’t it? Bruce sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He wasn’t good with people. And at the best times, he was downright screwed when he talked with Clara. He never knew what the right thing to say was or how to say it. There were too many questions, too many variables. What if she didn’t feel the same? What if she rejected him and he would ruin their relationship? He didn’t want to lose his best friend but he also didn’t want to wait for another five years.

His thoughts must have been showing on his face, because for the first time on that evening, Alfred’s usually expressionless face softened. He put the spoons he was setting for the table down and took a step towards the young man. “Master Bruce, I can see your doubts and it is only natural to have them. Whether you’re experienced in this department or not, Miss Kent is quite a different case. So my apologies, but I cannot guarantee you anything. She may not be human but Miss Kent likes to be a quite unexpected person at the best times. 

“However, I genuinely do not think she would reject you. After all these years, do you think Miss Kent doesn’t trust you as much as you trust her? She trusts you, respects you and sacrifices herself for you. But even if she did say no, I guess she would be quite kind about it. I know all of this does nothing to soothe you, sir, but it’s the best I can offer.” He put a hand on Bruce’s shoulder and squeezed it gently with long, gloved fingers. “Love is a fickle thing, Master Bruce. No man can escape its claws. And not knowing whether you’ll be rejected or accepted? Well, what is life without its sweet turmoils?”

Bruce looked into Alfred’s old, wise and a little bit sad gray eyes. He sighed once more. Alfred was right, of course, but Bruce still didn’t know what to do. He was so used to think rationally that he had almost forgot about how to listen to his heart. Clara’s image flashed before his eyes once again. He might have forgotten about it, but Clara was definitely making it easier to remember how to listen, how to feel.

She was also unwittingly making his heart sky-rocket with a single bell ring, too.

Alfred quickly distributed the spoons on the table and started to walk out of the dining room, towards the great doors –but not without giving Bruce a last look over his shoulder.

Bruce was having a hard time trying not to rip his hair off of his head or break something. Why was life so complicated?

 _Well, there's nothing reasonable about trying to run away from the inevitable,_ thought Bruce. _Alfred will have my head if I didn’t greet Clara on the door. And also, I have really missed her, maybe she’ll hug me this time… God, she always smells so…divine._ A slight smile appeared on his lips. _No! Calm down, Wayne! First you will end this night without messing it up and think about Clara later. God, why is she so damn distracting all the time?! Goddamned Kryptonians and their goddamned carefully selected genetics!_

Yep, talk about inner rantings.

It was going to be a long night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: OK, so, references. (*) is for _Superman,_ issues _#32-40, the Men of Tomorrow_ story arc and issues _24 Hours_ and _Powerless_ for the whole after effects of the solar flare thing. It really got me good and I saw a lot of materials to roll with, so behold ;)) And also the (**) was _Batman/Superman_ issues _#1-4, the Cross World_ story arc. And I think I should leave a cute little **DISCLAIMER,** just right here.
> 
> Yeah, so, I don’t know why but I really like the N52, and I loved the way SuperBat has their first meeting back there, so I definitely had to use it. I also had to read _Batman/Superman_ issues _#1-4_ again to remember the details. And, man, I think I’m gonna rewrite their story arc, too, because they’re just SO CUTE, dammit!! Sorry, I’m totally unable to resist the urge, LOL :) If I can get over the huge obstacle that is high school. I swear to God, we don’t feel like normal humans anymore jflkjflsjgk But seriously, tho, I think the writers were having _waaaaay_ too much fun with how incredibly miserable we are. Those two bastards are shipping themselves and it’s killing me.


	2. Chapter 2

### Chapter 2

When Bruce arrived to the entrance doors, Alfred was politely taking Clara’s thin trench coat and messenger bag from her hands. “Welcome again, Miss Kent. How was your trip?”

“Thanks, Alfred, it was shorter than I remembered and more comfortable than I hoped,” Clara answered sweetly. “Also, you don’t have to call me Miss, y’know, it’s been years. Just Clara is fine.”

The first thing Bruce noticed about Clara was the way her cheeks and nose were pink, and the way she slightly shivered when Alfred closed the doors. _She’s cold,_ he thought. _It’s not right._ He knew the reason why Clara was more human than ever, but it still didn’t make it right. He internally sighed.

Bruce had tried to talk some sense into Clara about her stubbornness with the whole solar flare thing, but like the rest of the Leaguers, he had failed. Clara was usually kind and considerate about other people’s opinions, but on this matter, she was very adamant about not listening to anyone, and it was infuriating and endearing at the same time. Which was making Bruce confused all over again.

Sure, having a member of the League with a new ability was dangerous, but after the first couple of hours, Bruce had decided it was moderately okay. If there was anyone on this planet who he could trust with brand new super powers and controlling them, it was Superwoman. But apparently, Clara didn’t agree. So when she pushed forward the safety of the Earth and her reluctance about using her powers, he had to look disinterested and indifferent about her experiments.

Which was probably why Clara had decided to use him as a taxi service. He had to pick her up from the different corners of the world and make adjustments to the Batplane so the gas would suffice longer than the average.

Not that he minded seeing Clara with her incredibly shy, blushing and naked glory. _NO, stop that thought, right now, Wayne!_

“And you should’ve learned by now that you’ll probably never convince Alfred about this,” Bruce said and finally stepped out of the shadows. “Y’know, it’s been years.”

When Clara turned around to look at him, Bruce felt breathless and blinded at the same time. Because the smile Clara had on her face was too… bright, warm and astonishing. She didn’t even needed to say anything but, “Bruce,” with a soft voice.

Bruce had never heard his name being told this beautifully.

Clara was wearing a simple, loose royal blue sweater that matched her otherworldly eyes, and a pair of black jeans, with combat boots. The black framed glasses were on, just as always. Except for the infamous little curl over her forehead, her soft and shiny black hair was up in a ponytail, revealing the skin of her long and tanned neck. Her hands looked a little pale, another evidence of her being cold. All Bruce wanted to do was to hug her until she was warm, rub her hands and her possibly cold feet until she didn’t shiver anymore, and kiss her cheeks until her face burned hot with embarrassment and joy.

But obviously Bruce didn’t do any of that. He simply nodded in greeting. “Clara.”

“My God, your kids are right, you really have horrible social skills.”

Bruce lifted a brow. “Look who’s talking, Miss ‘don’t-look-at-me-I’m-just-a-mild-mannered-reporter’ Kent.”

Clara shook her head and laughed. “ _Touché,_ Mister Bat.”

“Sorry to interrupt young lady, sir,” Alfred said. “The dinner is ready to be served. Would you be willing to take this _important_ conversation to the diner?

“Oh, God, yes! I’m starving.”

Bruce tried not to smile. Clara’s forever present appetite wasn’t supposed to be this cute.

Just as Bruce was leading Clara to the diner, something fast –and laughing?- passed through him and crashed on Clara.

“ _CLARA!_ God, hi! It’s so nice to see you again, I missed you so much!”

After the initial shock, Clara understood what was going on and laughed with her attacker, hugging him back just as tightly. “Hello, Dick. It’s so nice to see you, too.”

“Jeez, Grayson. Act adult, you’re embarrassing me.”

When he finally let go of her, Clara laughed at Dick’s clingy-ness and Jason’s irritated face. “Well, it’s nice to see you, too, Jason.”

Jason’s expression softened a little. You could almost see the little smile stretching on his lips. “Hey, Big Blue.”

Clara, knowing that Jason wasn’t really comfortable with hugs and kisses, reached for him and ruffled his wavy, black and white hair. Jason didn’t even bother to stop her –not that he actually enjoyed the gentle petting, no sir… Well… He was going to mess it up anyways. Whatever.

Clara then turned to look at the excited looking, red-haired young girl, who practically jumped on her with grabby arms and squeals, and hugged her tightly, joining her laughter. “Clara, oh my God, you’re not gonna believe what happened! I’ve got _soooo_ much to tell you! Like, I need to talk to you, right now!”

“Maybe she’ll be able to listen, if you let her go without any killing,” Tim cut Barbara before she could start her rant.

Clara laughed at the teenage boy and pulled him into a hug as well. “Hello, Tim.”

Tim returned the hug quite enthusiastically. “Hi, Clara.”

“And before you start to ask Tim, yes, Kon is fine and yes, he said hi,” said Clara. “He really wanted to come with me but, as you know, his Titans mission took longer than he expected. But he said he’s got some free time tonight. I guess if you want to, you can call him after the dinner.”

Tim’s eyes literally shone with happiness as his cheeks turned red when Jason rudely snorted. Though he didn’t care. Kon was on this mission for a week and Tim couldn’t even call his boyfriend to not to cause any distractions. He smiled at the woman –who disturbingly looked like Kon, thus him being her clone, thanks to some pigheaded idiot in Cadmus who had thought it was better to have a future Super _man_ rather than a Super _woman_ , though that didn't make Tim love Kon any less- and breathed out a “Thanks, I will.”

Clara nodded at him and smiled back. Then she felt two little hands holding and squeezing her own. She turned around and looked down, warmly hugging the short 14 year old girl to her chest. “Hello, Cassandra.”

“H-hello, Clara,” Cass whispered in Clara’s ear. She was still having a hard time learning how to talk, but she could manage greetings and little conversations with people, generally her family. And Clara.

Clara grinned brightly. “Very good, Cass, you’re doing amazing!” She petted Cass’ short, black hair. “Do you talk with others, too?”

“Yes. With Alfred. Bruce. And Damian.”

“That’s good, we can talk later, if you want, that is.”

Cass nodded. “Yes. Talk.”

“Hey, speaking of,” Clara looked around, frowning a little. “Where’s Damian?”

“Right here, alien.”

Clara turned around to look at the boy standing on the farther corner away from her, scowling with crossed arms. She sighed a little. She never knew why Damian seemed to hate her this much. Despite her best efforts to make him like her, the kid never seemed fazed. In fact, he refused to acknowledge any kindness she showed and deliberately acted rude. But even though all that, Clara could understand what was the problem –he still didn’t trust her. And actually, his actions could be justified in doing so. She knew that Damian didn’t exactly grow up in a trusting environment, with his grandfather being Ra’s al Ghul and all. And Bruce wasn’t the optimal person to help someone with trust issues.

Clara shrugged internally, she knew she and Damian hadn’t been really close and didn’t know each other for a long time. She could work on his trust. After all, she was kind of an expert with the grouching Bats and their nonexistent social skills. And in that exact moment, Damian filled the departments of ‘grouching’ and ‘Bat’ pretty successfully.

“Damian! How many times did we tell you-?”

“No, it’s fine, Dick,” Clara waved her hand in a calming gesture. “Hi Damian. How are you?”

“None of your business, alien. Pennyworth, I hope the dinner is ready.”

“It is, Master Damian,” Alfred stated calmly. “And you can enter the diner, once you’ve apologized from Miss Kent, for being incredibly rude.”

Damian internally fought over the urge to shout and obey. Nobody could say anything against Pennyworth and get away with it. Even he hated that Pennyworth’s superiority was stronger than anyone else’s –including his father’s- Damian had to admit, the old man was good. And scary, if he wanted to be. So he had to sulk, bow his head a little, mumble something resembling “Sorry, hi,” and walk hastily to the diner.

Bruce sighed and turned to Clara as the rest of his kids started to head towards the diner as well. “I’m sorry on his behalf. Damian is… well, not the easiest person to get along.”

“It’s alright, B,” Clara said, shaking her head. “Anyone would’ve acted like him if they had experienced what he went through.”

“It’s still not an excuse.”

“Well, maybe not, but hey, I still have hope.”

When he and Clara started to walk again, Bruce thought that maybe the evening would go without further problems. If the night ended with just little hiccups, Bruce was going to be more than pleased, because with every member of his family together he knew that some drama was bound to happen and Bruce was never an optimist about that –it was always Clara’s job to be the hopeful one. But he seriously wished that the Gotham would stay silent, or the police could handle any problems, just for _one goddamn night._

But obviously, even hoping for that meant everything was jinxed.

When Bruce sat down on his chair at the head of the table, Clara was talking with an excited Barbara. “Oh, yes, Karr is just fine, Babs. He also wanted to come here but Superlad is needed quite a lot in the National City.”

After everyone started their meals with light chatter around the room, the groans of appreciation came from the kids. “God, Alfie, this pumpkin soup is just awesome!” yelled Dick.

“Yes, Alfred, it’s really delicious,” agreed Clara.

“You should do this more often, Pennyworth,” said Damian.

“I’m pleased to hear you liked it Master Dick, Miss Clara,” Alfred said politely. “And Master Damian, I gladly would do it more, if you ever got time to eat before or after your patrols in the city.”

A silence followed the reproachful voice of the butler. Bruce bowed his head a little.

But when Jason felt like the silence was too thick and boring to bare, he started talking. “So, why are you in our humble Gotham again, Supes?” he asked, chewing on his chicken leg quite messily.

“Master Jason, please refrain yourself from talking with your mouth full.”

A slight red color dusted Jason’s cheeks as he swallowed the bite. “Sorry, Alfred.”

Clara laughed with the rest of the table –except for Bruce, who only smiled fondly- and shook her head. “Well, I’m on a _Planet_ gig. I need to make an interview with Mr. Lucius Fox about his new products and the upcoming gala. And actually,” she looked at the silver watch around her wrist, “I have about 30 minutes to my appointment.”

“What?” shouted Dick. “You’re not leaving this soon, are you?”

“I’m sorry Dick, but I need to get it done. Mr. Fox said he has only 15 minutes for an interview before he calls it a day. Considering it’s 9 pm right now, he works a lot and I don’t want to bother him even more. And it’s my job. Well… my other job.”

“Why aren’t you interviewing Bruce?” asked Tim.

“Because supposedly, I’m interviewing Mr. Fox due to Bruce Wayne’s full schedule. Apparently the owner of the Wayne Enterprises is too busy with the gala preparations.”

“Wait,” Bruce interfered. “You tried to get an appointment?”

“Well, Perry did. But your secretary, Caroline Crown, said that you were too busy this week. So Perry had to talk with Mr. Fox.”

“Did Perry called Caroline on last Wednesday?”

“I think so, yeah. Why?”

Bruce sighed. “She told me that a reporter had insistently wanted an interview with me and she had refused to make an appointment. She said that the reporter was quite persistent and annoying.”

“Well, that’s Perry White for you.”

“Tt,” came a rude snort. “I think the ‘persistent and annoying’ part should’ve given a hint about the alien.”

“Damian, that’s enough!”

“Sorry, Father.”

Bruce shook his head at his son and turned back to Clara. “I will talk Caroline about this. But in the meanwhile, you don’t have to interview Lucius, I can cover that.”

“I was going to ask an interview from you anyways, but I still need to talk with Mr. Fox as well. And I don’t want to stand him up.”

“I can tell Lucius about this. I’m sure he can push the appointment to tomorrow.”

Clara considered for a second. She was just about to decline the offer when Cass, who was sitting next to her, poked her arm and asked _Aren’t we going to talk, Clara?_ with sign language.

Clara knew she could never say no to the quiet girl. She sighed, then smiled and nodded. “Alright.”

Cass smiled at her toothily while Dick punched the air with victory.

That was when Alfred came in with a beeping walkie-talkie on his hand.

Everyone turned their heads towards the little noise, while Clara frowned with confusion. She guessed that someone was calling out for Batman but she didn’t understand the worried expressions or the grim sigh that came from Bruce. However, the rest of the family knew that only one person had access to the untraceable communicator, and if they ever made a call, it meant the situation was bad.

“Batman, this is Commissioner Gordon. We’ve got a problem.”

Bruce sighed. He just fucking knew it.

“Batman here, what’s going on, Commissioner?”

“A ransom situation,” said Jim Gordon, voice gravel. “Three hostages on the roof of an 8 stores building in the East End. They’re the kids of the Flemming family, one of the richest families in Gotham. Catwoman had already tried to intervene but they shot at her with mini-guns. She’s alright, though, just a little upset that her night got disturbed. But we need back-up. And Batman?”

“Yes?”

“Come alone. We don’t want any risks.”

Bruce considered this for a second. If there were three hostages, there would be around three to five guys as their guards, and a couple of goons to watch over the building. In the worst case scenario, he could organize Selina and Gordon to handle a few men. But the mini-guns could be trouble. Sure, he and Alfred had already fixed up the bullet-proof Kevlar suit –again- but he wasn’t sure of its resistance against the mini-guns.

But those were _kids._ Frightened and _innocent_ kids no matter how rich they were. So of course, the answer was obvious.

Bruce nodded to himself, then turned to the walkie-talkie. “Alright, Commissioner, I’m on my way.”

When the click notified the end of the call, everybody started to talk at once. His kids were telling Bruce that it was a stupid idea to show up alone. What if he got hurt, what if something happened to him, he should at least have a Robin with him, no, he needed the gun power, no, he needed stealth, etc. etc. If it was another time and the situation wasn’t so serious, Bruce could’ve been touched. Well, almost.

He simply said nothing and got up with a sudden move, making everyone shut up all at once –the change from Bruce Wayne to Batman was incredibly fast and _very_ distinguishable. “You’re only allowed to go down to the Batcave with Alfred and monitor from there. No one will intervene.”

“But, Bruce-”

“Is that understood, Nightwing?”

Dick wanted to protest, he really did, but any idiot could understand to look on Batman’s face. _This is Gotham, my city, my turf and you will stand down._ The ex-Robin narrowed his eyes, the look reminding him too much of the past arguments they had, but he still kept silent, even though he didn’t agree with Bruce. And Batman also knew the silence wasn’t out of agreement, but he still took that as affirmative. He kept walking.

“Father, let me come with you. I can help.”

“No, Damian.”

“But, Father-”

“No, _Robin_ and that is an order. You heard what the Commissioner said, it’s far too risky –for the kids and for you. All of you will stay in the Cave, Oracle, you can contact with your father, but none of you will follow me. Understood?” When he got no answers, he said “Alfred, keep them on watch,” and turned around to leave.

He was walking down the hall when he heard silent footsteps getting closer to him. He should’ve known she would follow him after making no comments, but it still didn’t change the fact that his time was limited. “What, Clara?”

“I can help you.”

“I need stealth and vigilance, not strength and heat vision.”

“I know how hostage situations work, Bruce. I’ve handled ransom callers and crooks before.”

“Yeah, in Metropolis. But this is Gotham and you should’ve learned by now that everything in here is different from the way you know it.”

Clara frowned but didn’t back down. “If you don’t want me to get involved, I could stand back and deal with the mini-guns from afar.”

“This is my city and I don’t want Superwoman to be seen in Gotham. I thought we had agreed on this years ago.”

“We did, but it wouldn’t be the first time Superwoman and Batman worked together in Gotham.”

“Stay here, Clara. _Catwoman_ could help me if I ever needed it.”

Clara’s eyes widened with his last words. Bruce trusted _Catwoman,_ a.k.a. Selina Kyle, more than he trusted Superwoman? Hearing this coming from her best friend hurt Clara like nothing else ever did. She couldn’t help the betrayed and hurt expression reflected on her face. “Fine,” she said, voice wavering. “It’s your city after all.”

Then she turned around and walked away, leaving Batman on his own.

Bruce sighed. How could he tell her that he saw the look of sadness and disappointment on her face but he’d never meant it like that? How could he tell her that he trusted her with his life but was too scared to admit it? How could he tell her that now that she was almost human, he was afraid something will happen to her? How could he tell his kids that he was worried about them as a father, without offending anyone as fellow heroes? How could he tell them he woke up sweating every single night, seeing them fall, bloodied and painfully _dead,_ accompanying his parents on the ground?

That was it, he couldn’t. So, keeping silent and staying distant, was the only answer he could afford and manage.

He sighed once more. Even at the age of thirty one, he felt the weight of a lifetime on his shoulders and in his heart.

\----

Batman told Commissioner Gordon to meet him at two blocks away from the main building, not wanting to attract any attention from the bad guys. There were cops, reporters and civilians swarming around the building, so it was easy for Jim Gordon to give a quick nudge to Harvey Bullock and sneak away.

Apparently Catwoman was also invited to the little party or she’d noticed Jim getting away from the crowd, because she was crouching on one of the nearby containers as well, a mischievous smirk on her face. “So, what’s the plan, Batsy?” asked the leather clad woman.

“I’ll need distraction from the downside, Commissioner. I need their attention scrambled. Catwoman, you will come with me. I’m guessing there’ll be guards on the stairs, so we will take them out first and get up from the inside. When we’re on the roof, I’ll handle the guards and you will take the kids. The priority is the kids and _kids only._ Understood?”

Both of them nodded without a word and Batman felt a little bad wishing that his kids could be more like them.

Batman and Catwoman went in first. It didn’t even take them three minutes to silently handle the two guys guarding the entrance, the one guy on the stairs and tie them down, just in case. Batman quickly informed Gordon with his walkie-talkie to start on his part.

Commissioner returned to middle of the crowd and grabbed the megaphone, shouting at the four masked and armed men on the roof. “You sick bastards, those are just kids! Let them go!”

“We will, once we got the grands, Commish.” The tall and built guy with dark hair and dark eyes pushed the barrel of the gun into the youngest boy’s head, who shrieked with fear. “Until then, fuck off or I’ll shoot ‘em now!”

“We made the call you wanted, alright? The Flemmings aren’t in Gotham, they’re not even in U.S. right now! You’re not getting anything tonight!”

“Is that so? Wow, then I think we pro’lly should let the kiddies go and hand ourselves in, don’ we boys?” He and his other three goons smirked with evil expressions. “Nah, don’ think that’s gonna happen.” He made a gesture to his men, which they obliged with dragging the two boys and the girl closer to the edge of the roof. The kids started struggling and shouting in fear and pain. The crowd gasped and some of the women screamed with fear. Gordon gritted his teeth in anxiety and anger. Those bastards were definitely going to be send to the Stryker’s Island. _C’mon, where the hell are you at, Batman?!_

“Now, kiddies, who do we start with first? With the lady?” he pointed to the trembling girl who looked no older than 13, “Or with the youngest?” He looked at the little boy crying silently. “Yeah, I think I’m gonn’ start with him.” He smirked with his sharp teeth and snatched the boy from the man’s hands. When the kid started to scream and his siblings shouted for their brother _(“NO!” “Malcolm!”)_ the man’s smirk grew even wider.

He heard the whip of the blade a little too late, as it embodied itself on his back.  
The man yelled and tried to reach for the blade, pain momentarily blinding his senses. But even then, he could hear his men shout out a single word. A word associated with fear and darkness. A word that altered everything when said. A word which was the name of a man who fought for vengeance.

_“It’s Batman!”_

The man growled as he pulled the Batarang from his back. But it was the punch that hit his face caused him to stumble… and made his grip loosen on the boy’s neck.

But as he screamed his little lungs out, the boy never fell, his feet didn’t even left the ground of the roof as someone with soft curves pulled him back to themselves. Catwoman scooped the little boy up and immediately moved out of the way as she heard a mini-gun getting loaded.

The guy who was holding the little boy had pulled out his gun and was aiming for both Catwoman and Batman. One of the other two threw the girl to his teammate and took out his knife, attacking the Batman as well.

Everything was happening too fast. Catwoman was getting the little boy inside and then going back into the fight to help Batman. The rattling of the media helicopters were almost drowning down the voices on the roof. The guy holding the kids was forcing them closer to the edge. Commissioner was trying to calm the civilians down and get a tent opened on the ground–in case anything happened. The main boss was finally getting back on the fight. Batman was trying to use the lack of distance to his advantage while he was dealing with the mini-gun, but trying not to get stabbed by the knife at the same time. The kids were screaming, their shrill voices were piercing through the night.

Then suddenly, a blur, mostly unnoticeable at the darkness, came from the door the young boy was hiding behind, moved through the fighting figures and literally appeared behind the man holding the girl and the boy, knocking him out before anyone could see how it happened. Two siblings grabbed each other, afraid of someone else taking them away again.

But instead, a pair of strong but gentle hands grabbed them and pulled them away from the edge, slightly shaking them to open their eyes. A tall woman, with dark hair and blue eyes behind black framed glasses was talking to them while trying to get them away from the fight. “Listen to me,” said the woman, shouting over all of the voices and the helicopters. “You two go and grab your little brother then get down, alright? Commissioner Gordon is waiting for you there. He will get you to your parents, safely. Okay?” The older one, a teenage boy who looked about the same age as Kon and Tim, nodded shakily and started to run, holding his sister close. They grabbed their shocked brother and disappeared in the darkness of the stairways.

Clara hoped that they would be fine after all this ended.

She took a quick look to the ongoing fight. Catwoman was dealing with the knife-man and the boss as Batman was holding up against the mini-gunner. Considering her last blast episode was just yesterday, she didn’t know if her skin was still as invulnerable as it was supposed to be, but nevertheless, she decided to take the boss out first.

So she ran into the battle and quickly grabbed the knife that was coming down on Catwoman, surprising all three participants of the brawl.

“Who the fuck are you?” shouted the boss as Clara broke the knife-man’s wrist swiftly and threw the blade away from reach.

“No one important,” Clara said and kicked the man right on the stomach, making him fly towards the mini-gunner and knock him out as well. “Yet someone you should worry about.”

“Who in the hell?”

Clara turned to look at Catwoman’s excited face with her own deadpanned expression. “The same answer is viable to you, too, _Miss Kyle.”_

Selina looked shocked but the excitement in her emerald eyes never left. “Damn, babe. Seriously, who are you?”

“Someone who shouldn’t even be here in the first place,” growled a deep, bass voice. Batman passed through Catwoman and rushed towards to the newcomer. “What the hell are you doing here, Kent?!”

“Helping.”

“I told you to stay where you were!”

“You told me that it was an order,” said Clara, also taking a step forward. “But you know that I never follow them.”

“Then it’s gonn’ cost you your life, doll face!”

Everything was still happening so fast. But to someone like Clara, it was almost like she was watching everything on slow motion. Clara felt the boss man’s strong blow on her stomach as her legs buckled and her feet tangled on each other. Then suddenly, she couldn’t feel the hard concreate under her feet anymore. All she could hear were horrifying screamings and a really satisfying crunch coming from someone’s face, as the gravity pulled her down.

She was falling. And for the first time in her life, feeling the wind on her ears, seeing the stars on the skies didn’t feel good. _Is this how the world will find out about my secret?_ Clara thought. _The last day my friends would ever feel safe. The last day I could be Clara Kent without fear… How ironic.(***)_

As a dark figure crashed into her, she felt an arm around her waist, then the pull towards downwards abruptly stopped.

“Nothing you’ll say can justify how idiotic your actions were,” Batman growled in her ear.

“Then I won’t even bother,” replied Clara, but as she was holding tight on his neck, she didn’t even try to hide the relief she felt.

Their legs dangled in the air together as they left the crowd behind them. Batman kept grappling them through Gotham but Clara could feel the man next to her fume silently. Finally, after two minutes that felt like an eternity, Batman spoke, anger evident in his growling voice. “What exactly don’t you understand when someone tells you to _‘stay put’?”_

Clara closed her eyes and sighed. She knew this was going to happen sooner or later. “Look, Bruce-”

“What, _Kent?!_ Are you so fucking dumb that you don’t even understand when lives are at stake? That not everyone has skin of steel, strength of thousand men or ability to fly, like you do? Is the need to _show off_ too strong that you don’t even care about the innocents? _What?!”_

Clara turned and looked right at his angry face for only a moment, before untangling herself away from him and starting to fall down once more.

_“Shit, Clara!”_

Clara, with almost zero control over her flight, managed to stir herself through the dark clouds and down to an empty alley. She fell to the ground on her knees and rolled over to lessen the impact but not to avail. The floor still cracked under her like thousands of long and deep spider-webs. For a moment, she kept her head down, not being able to stand straight or look at anything after hearing those… _things,_ but she had to get up and leave. Her legs and palms hurt, and her jeans had been torn open on the knee caps, but she propped herself up and started to move towards the main street.

Though even without her powers, she could hear the mechanic sound of a grappling hook and a pair of footsteps just a few seconds later, but she kept walking.

“Clara.”

She frowned even harder and increased her barely stable pace.

“Clara, wait!”

She didn’t and it hurt. It hurt almost as bad as hearing him saying those horrible things.

Just as she made it to the crowded pavement, a hand grabbed her forearm. “Clara, please!”

Her eyes widened slightly as she let him stop her and turn her around. As she looked at his face through the cowl, she saw the pained lines of a grimace spreading over Bruce Wayne’s handsome features. But still, the only thing she could manage to do was just stand there with an expression of awe and surprise. Because Batman –no, Bruce- had just said _please._

Clara cursed him internally for making her already unsteady walls crumble.

“How dare you?” she asked, voice silent but trembling with emotion. “How dare you say those things to me? What right did you have?”

“Clara, I swear, I-” Then he stopped in mid-sentence, fixed his composure and started to pull her to the dark alley they came from.

That was when she noticed two things.

One, Batman had been holding her –well, stopping her so that she didn’t leave, actually, but it didn’t matter- in the _middle_ of the street, which was crawling with the shocked people of Gotham.

Two, said people had been staring and pointing at them or abruptly stopping to see what was happening, which was probably why Batman wanted to leave in the first place. Despite the distance Batman put between them and the people, Clara could still hear their whispers through the dark walls. _(“Wasn’t that Batman? Why was he holding that young woman like that?” “Do you think she’s a criminal?” “Who the hell is she?” “I think he said Clara.” “Well, I think they looked like they were having a lover’s spat.”)_

As the body in front of her came to a stop after re-entering the empty alley, her legs stopped as well, but then she felt an arm around her waist second time that night. She successfully managed to go limp and show no resistance when Batman pulled her flush to himself and fired his hook to the nearest rooftop.

In the first moments of their arrival to the unknown roof, the silence –it was far too heavy, but not awkward- hung in the air between them. Then Batman finally gave up and sighed. “Somehow, I feel like saying ‘I was angry,’ isn’t going to help.”

When Clara said nothing, Batman sighed once more and removed his cowl, revealing his pale and handsome face, his sharp cheek bones, messed up hair and intense, steely blue eyes. He looked miserable. “Look, Clara, I… I don’t know what came over me. You didn’t deserve to hear those things, and you didn’t exactly do anything wrong, but I’m… you know I’m not used to disobedience. Even after all these years with the kids and knowing you, I still… burst out sometimes. I didn’t mean anything I said, I swear to God.” He ran a hand through his dark, silky and already messed up hair. “And, about earlier, believe me, I don’t trust Catwoman more than I trust you. I…” A pause. Then silent and soft spoken words. “I don’t trust _anyone_ more than I trust _you,_ Clara. So, I’m… I’m sorry.”

Even if Bruce had said none of these, Clara knew she would’ve forgive him eventually, it wasn’t in her nature to hold grudges after all, but now she had no choice but to give in. She could never turn down a sincere apology from Bruce.

Clara sighed but couldn’t help the little smile appearing on her lips. Even after all these years, this man still didn’t cease to amaze her.

“Apology accepted.”

Her breath hitched at the hopeful expression and the slight grin on Bruce’s handsome face. Sometimes she forgot that the tabloids were rarely right about a thing or two. She averted her eyes and tried not to blush.

Slowly, without saying anything, they moved to the edge of the roof and sat down, their legs dangling on the air. “You know,” started Bruce after a while. “In the fight, you weren’t that bad. I mean, for an almost de-powered alien. That was a nice kick.”

Clara only raised her brows. “…You do know that I am aware of battle strategies and fighting styles, right? I’ve been trained by the Amazons and titled as their honorary sister, y’know.”

“It’s easy to forget that when you drop into a battle like a missile and destroy everything.”

“I don’t destroy everything!” A beat. “I mean, generally.” A cocked eyebrow from the man next to her. “Alright, fine, I usually do, but that still doesn’t mean I’m _illiterate_ or something!”

“I never said you were.”

“You implied it!”

“Yeah, whatever you say, Girl Scout.”

Clara punched him in the arm in a friendly gesture and tried to hide her grin with a supposed frown. “Wait, so is this your way of saying _thanks?”_

“No.”

Clara ignored him. “Well, who could’ve thought? The Dark Knight of Gotham says _please, sorry_ and _thanks_ for the first time in his life! What a night!”

“...You can’t prove anything.”

Clara flashed a predatory grin at him. “Don’t push your luck, Bat.”

For some reason, Bruce flushed a little bit and immediately turned his head.

After a moment of silence –this time it was more comfortable than anything Clara ever knew- “Hey,” trailed Clara. “You never told me what happened with the main boss of the hostage. I think I heard a punch while I was falling, but I couldn’t see it. Who was it, Commissioner Gordon? Because I’d like to thank him for kicking that bastard’s ass personally.”

“Oh, that?” Bruce smirked a little. “Catwoman.”

Clara frowned. “What?”

“Yeah, I think she was quite mad that he tried to kill her savior by pushing her from a roof. She stabbed him in the leg before knocking him out.”

Clara lowered her eyes and flushed. Well, maybe Selina Kyle wasn’t that bad of a person.

Then suddenly, the comm-unit on Bruce’s ear beeped, signaling a call from the Batcave. Bruce made an apologetic face and tapped his one-piece. “Batman here. Is that you, Penny One?”

“Bruce, _what the hell is going on?!_ They’re showing the hostage situation on news right now and according to the amateur footage, a woman with a blue sweater and dark hair, is falling from the roof! And we couldn’t find Clara in the Manor! What the fuck happened?! Is she with you?! Are you two alright?! What happened to the hostages? Goddammit, you said you’d contact us, Bruce!”

Bruce chuckled a little. “We are fine, Nightwing. Clara’s here too. And the Flemming kids are safe. They’re with Commissioner Gordon right now. I’ll tell you what happened later.”

“But, Bruce-”

“Batman out.” Then he tapped his ear.

“Well, that was rude,” said Clara. “They’re worried about you, you know.”

Bruce sighed. “I know. But I also know that they won’t believe I’m fine until they actually see me in person. So until I return to the Cave, there’s no point in wasting time. I will tell them later.”

“Then, you’ll be seeing them in about 10 minutes.”

“What?”

“I’m a bit tired –still not used to being half human half alien- and we’re really close to my hotel right now, but I don’t think I have enough energy to fly. I was going to ask for a ride from you. That is, if it’s okay.”

“You can stay in the Manor, you know.”

“I don’t want to disturb anyone, and my stuff is already at the hotel.”

“You wouldn’t be disturbing anyone, the Manor is too big for all of us anyway. But if you’re sure...” He put the cowl back and got up. “Of course I can give you a ride. I mean, it’s not like you haven’t been using me as a worldwide taxi service for the last three days.”

“Well, I didn’t hear you objecting.”

“Hmph.”

When Clara also got up, there was a look on her face that Bruce knew all too well. It was that face she made whenever she wanted to ask for something but didn’t know if it was okay. “You can ask whatever you want Clara.”

Clara flushed a little darker (which totally wasn’t cute) and started to scratch her neck. “Could we… could we take the Batmobile?

Bruce raised a brow beneath the cowl. “Why?”

“I… I dunno. I think it’s… cool.”

Clara was a grown woman at the age of twenty nine. She didn’t have the right to look this… adorable. Bruce faked a sigh. “The last time someone asked to ride in the Batmobile because it was cool, he became my Robin. And quite frankly, I don’t think we could find a Robin uniform that’d fit you. No offense.”

Suddenly after saying that, the image became too vivid and Bruce desperately tried not to think how good she would look in a tight Robin spandex. It would be incredibly small and very revealing, more so than her usual suit. Red and green pieces would be torn apart almost immediately under his leather gauntlets. She would sit on the hood of his Batmobile, waiting for him, and… God… _Jesus, Wayne, what the fuck is wrong with you?!_

He needed a cold shower.

Then he cleared his throat in the most casual way he could pull off. “C’mon, I’ve set up the GPS. It’ll take about a minute for it to come here from the East End.”

Bruce also tried not to smile at the look of pure, childish joy on Clara’s face, and failed miserably, like the other times he tried before that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A.N.: (***) was a quote from _Superman/Batman_ issue _#87, All Work & No Play,_ which is the third part of the story arc _the Secret._ Also, you will see one or two more references to this story arc in the future chapters but you don’t necessarily need to read them to understand what’s going on. But I think you should read it, though, because the boys are incredibly cute and totally married, so…
> 
> Happy New Year, everyone!!!


	3. Chapter 3

### Chapter 3

“What the fuck was that stunt, Smallville?!”

“Well, hello to you too, Lois,” said Clara, voice slurry with sleep.

“Stop screwing around and answer me, Kent!” Lois shouted over the phone. “What do you think you were doing?”

“What did I do this time?” whined Clara while rubbing her face.

“I had to learn from the goddamn Vicki Vale that you got involved in a ransom case and literally jumped off from a roof last night, that’s what! What the fuck happened?!” 

“I didn’t jump off from anywhere.”

“Uh-huh, then what happened, Smallville?!”

“Uh…” trailed Clara, scratching the back of her head. “I wanted to investigate the ransom area, y’know, as a reporter.”

“Then can I ask you how the fuck did you end up falling from the roof? And the reports say after the _freakin’ Batman_ saved you, he took you away before anyone can get a statement from either of you. What the hell?!”

Clara didn’t answer for a second or two to alter the truth without revealing anything Lois didn’t know. She sighed with the weight of another lie she had to tell to her friend. “I…I escaped from the Wayne Manor and went to the scene. I, uh, wanted to help the police to save the kids, but they didn’t let me, so I… decided to help, anonymously?”

She could literally feel Lois fuming through the line.

“ _What the actual fuck, Smallville?!_ Those men had guns, you could’ve died, you almost _did_ die, and you’re saying that the only thing you wanted to do was _help anonymously?!_ ”

“What, you risk your life every day in Metropolis.”

“Because there’s Superwoman in Metropolis. But you and I both know that the Bat doesn’t want anyone in his Gotham. There was no one who could save you.”

“There _was_ Batman,” Clara said with a slight frown, feeling defensive of her friend, despite knowing Lois’ not-so-secret disapproval of the vigilante.

“Whatever. You still could’ve died.”

“But I didn’t.”

“And what’s the deal with him, anyway? Where did he take you?”

“To my hotel. After…telling how dumb it was of me to get involved as a civilian.”

“Finally, someone who makes sense!”

“You just told you didn’t exactly believe him to be able to save lives. And that suddenly makes him _sensible?_ ”

“I did no such thing!”

“You implied it.”

“Whatever, Kent, I’m still pissed at you, which makes me right in anything I say. You’re dumb as hell!”

“Thank you, Lo.”

Lois didn’t respond to Clara’s sort of resentful voice for a second. Then she sighed dramatically. “Ah, goddamn you too, Kent, stop giving me those puppy eyes!”

“I’m not making puppy eyes.”

“Yes, you are, I can practically see them. But… despite all your stupidness and hero-complex… you did good… I’m proud of you. Probably.”

Clara chuckled at Lois’ stubbornness. “Thanks.”

“How did you even escape from that huge-ass Manor, anyway? I’ve been to there thrice or something but I still can’t find a bathroom.”

“I used the back entrance.”

Lois snorted. “You don’t say?”

Clara snorted as well and checked the time on her phone. 06.45. She sighed. After Bruce took her to the hotel, she made him promise to call Mr. Fox, apologize him and reschedule her appointment to the next day. Bruce had grumped that she didn’t need to interview Lucius at all, but Clara had felt horrible for standing him up, so she made him promise. The new appointment was on 9 that day, but after not being able to sleep through the night, and actually needing to sleep, hence her powerless state and the lack of sunbaths, Clara still felt incredibly tired. And she knew she couldn’t be able to sleep past 8, thanks to her biological clock, so she didn’t have much time to rest. She sighed once more. 

“Hey, Lo, can I hang up now? Because I couldn’t sleep tonight and I have an appointment with Lucius Fox in the morning-”

“And you feel tired because you’re not used to being up all night and be the hero of Gotham, right?” She chuckled fondly. “It’s okay, Clara, you go back to sleep. But promise me something first.”

“Yeah?”

“Stay out of trouble. Don’t try to be a hero. And be careful.”

A pause. “I’m not promising anything.”

“Goddammit Kent-!”

“What more could possibly go wrong?”

“Stop fucking jinxing it, Kent! Damn it-”

“Alright, alright! And stop cursing me.”

Lois chuckled once more. “Okay, I keep forgetting that the clean-faced members of Smallville are too moral, sorry. Sleep, Clara, and be careful.”

“I’ll try.”

“See you around.”

Clara locked the screen after hearing the click signaling the end of the call. She practically threw the phone in her bed and buried her head in the pillow.

Seriously though, what more could’ve gone wrong, right?

\----

_At the last case of ransom in the East End of Gotham resolved with no causalities. Notified by the GCPD Commissioner James Gordon, the Caped Crusader arrived just in time to save Robert, Margot and Malcolm Flemming from the roof of an eight stores building, owned by Eleanor and David Flemming, with no serious injuries. Cooperating with the GCPD, Batman helped the police take out the three prison escapees, with an unusual help from a daring civilian, who had been visually confirmed to be Clara Kent, an investigative reporter from the Daily Planet, Metropolis. After being pushed from the roof by one of the criminals and being saved by Batman, then leaving with him with no statements, Kent is believed to be one of the heroes of yesterday night. The criminals had already been arrested and sent to Belle Reve, presumably sentenced to life imprisonment, due to their previous crimes._

“I cannot believe Vicki Vale!” exclaimed Clara as she furiously folded the Gotham Gazette. “How did she even find out it was me? Whose visual confirmation was that anyway? No one knows me in Gotham!”

“Actually, plenty of people know you from your previous cases in Gotham,” answered Bruce, calmly sitting next to Clara as Alfred drove them to Wayne Enterprises. “However, I think it’s safe to assume it was Selina.”

“What the heck? Why the heck? How the heck?”

“I think I called you by last name.”

Clara fumed silently for a few moments. Then she frowned. “But if it was Selina, why wasn’t there anything about Catwoman in the article?”

“Vicki Vale isn’t really fond of Catwoman.” Then he smirked. “Why? Do you care?”

“I… I mean, there isn’t any reason to care,” she stuttered, not being able to mouth off too much, after finding out that Selina had kicked that asshole’s butt for her. “But, I’m a reporter myself, and while reporting the facts, you don’t get to omit any details. It’s wrong.”

Bruce slightly smiled at Clara’s sense of duty. “I wouldn’t know. I don’t really like reporters.”

Clara made a funny face, badly imitating his voice in a mocking way. “Whatever, Wayne.” Then she sighed and adjusted her messy ponytail. “God, Lois called me in the crack of dawn today. She bit my head off about all this. Damn it, B, why couldn’t you just let me come as Superwoman?”

“And risk the possibility of you getting a hit and bleeding or not being able to fly, revealing the state of your powers to everyone? No, thanks.”

Clara wrinkled her nose childishly at him. “I would’ve been fine.”

Bruce chuckled. “Of course you would’ve.” Then he leaned towards the driver seat. “How’s the traffic, Alfred?”

“It is surprisingly calm today, Master Bruce,” answered Alfred. “We will arrive to the Wayne Tower in short notice, Miss Clara, so no need to worry about your appointment with Mr. Fox.”

Clara found the old, gray eyes over the rearview mirror and smiled. “Thank you, Alfred.”

Alfred slightly bowed his head. “You’re welcome, miss.”

As the ride continued silently, Clara took her chance to sightsee out of her window. She had been to Gotham tons of times through the years but the city never failed to amaze her with her Gothic beauty. Even though the business center of Gotham was more modernized with skyscrapers and business halls with their shiny windows that reflected the sun over the city, she still carried the slight touches of old history and enigmatic shadows in the streets and buildings. She was incredibly different from Metropolis, much older, much darker, much damaged, though, never any less magnificent.

The sudden sound of a booming explosion drove Clara’s attention away from the beautiful structures.

As Alfred stepped on the breaks, Bruce hurriedly looked out of the windshield to see the incident on the road. He noticed the thick black smoke rising to the sky about eight cars ahead of them. People were screaming and running away from their cars –so most likely, it wasn’t something that the police could handle alone. He quickly calculated the time it will take him to get his suit on while making a U-turn to get Clara back to her hotel. Guessing that both obstacles would be finished around at the same time, he pushed the special button that revealed a secret compartment which held the Bat suit as Alfred channeled the hijacked police station on the radio. _Arkham breakout, suspects heading straight to the city center. Approximately ten escapees, all heavily armed. All units, immediately on the case._

“Alfred, turn around, we’re heading back to the hotel.”

As Alfred curtly nodded and steered the wheel to get them out of the steadily increasing car jam, Clara straightened on her seat and frowned. “Hey, why are we going back to my hotel? Do you need coverage to change?”

“No, we’re just dropping you off.”

“What?!”

“Sir…”

“No, Alfred, she needs to stay clear. I don’t want her out in the streets.”

“What the hell does that even mean? And also, stop talking like I’m not here!”

To Clara’s growing anger, Bruce didn’t reply, didn’t even acknowledge her as he started to check the pouches on his utility belt. “Alfred, alert the others and call Oracle, I need information.”

“Bruce, please,” Clara raised her voice, sounding angry but also desperate. “Why are you doing this, why are you shutting yourself down again?! Did I do something wrong? Is this about last night?”

Bruce didn’t look up at her face. He couldn’t stand to see the hurtful expression on her face, so as always, he ran away from his problems. It was for everyone’s safety. “Alfred, take a short-cut.”

“Sir, maybe Miss Clara can help?”

_Beep. “Bruce, how fast do you want the information on the Arkham breakout?”_

“As fast as you can, Oracle.”

_“Okay, I’ll try to convince my dad to crack while I break into Arkham’s security system. I already sent rest of the Bats to the city center, they will be there shortly.”_

“Thanks, Barbara.”

_“No prob-”_

**CRUNCH.**

_“What the fuck, Clara?!”_

“So, that’s what I need to do to get your attention, huh?” yelled Clara, as the broken pieces of his communicator fell between her fingers. “What the hell, Bruce? If you don’t want me around, you could’ve just said so! Why the sudden _hate_ towards me? Why do you keep punishing me or pushing me away for something I don’t even know about?”

 _'Because I don’t want you to get hurt.'_ , _'Because it’s dangerous for you with your condition.'_ , _'Because I know how you haven’t been fully recovered from your solar flares and it scares me.'_ , _'Because you don’t have experience with the people who’re bad enough to be thrown into Arkham.'_ were few of the answers he could’ve given her, but instead, he turned his head away from her, mustered up the coldest voice he can pull and said, “I don’t want anyone else to be seen in Gotham.”

Clara looked like she could start shouting and crying at the same time and it broke Bruce’s heart beyond repair. He could see just how much angry she was with his dickish attitude and he knew how childish and cliché he was being. If she ever decided that he wasn’t worthy of her forgiveness, she would have every right in the world to do so. But Bruce also knew he was selfish, because he would want that forgiveness from her anyway. And even worse, he knew that Clara would eventually forgive him, no matter how much of an asshole he was being to her. His chest ached with guilt and self-hatred. He hated to take advantage of Clara’s kind heart, but he had to continue his act. He had to pull up a mask, even though he didn’t need to blend in one for Clara in the last seven years. It was for her own safety.

But suddenly, Clara’s brows furred into a deep frown. She settled back into her seat and crossed her arms. “You can’t make me go out of this car.”

As Alfred pulled the car over to the pavement in front of the hotel, Bruce reached for the door handle, muttering “Can’t I now?” in a voice he hoped sounded dangerous.

He darted out of the car quickly and walked to the Clara’s side of the car. He forced her door open under her wary eyes and looked around at the crowded street. He grimaced slightly. _Please forgive me for this._

“How many times do I have to tell you, I don’t want to see you anywhere near me anymore!” he shouted loudly. Heads started to turn towards them as Clara frowned at him. “I never even let you come with me that night! You were just another _obsessed fan_ who _forced her way_ into my car and into my _bed_! We were never a _‘thing’!_ You’re just a _clingy broad_ who is _after my money!_ Unbelievable!”

People started to whisper and tut at them. Some of the bystanders were trying to understand what was happening, some of them were pulling out cell phones or cameras and some of them were angry with the way he talked to a woman. Though Bruce hypocritically scowled when he heard some of them say things like _goddamn gold diggers_ and _poor man, he definitely needs some time off from those bitches_ (a part of him was shocked that some pig-heads sided with him despite probably knowing about his suave ways, but that shock quickly turned to anger. How dare these people let someone, _anyone_ openly insult a woman and approve their asshole act?! They were no good than him!) but he stood his ground. But he didn’t have to do it for long.

Clara looked at him with wide, blue eyes and an outraged expression. She was humiliated, angry and incredibly hurt and Bruce knew it _–but he didn’t have another choice._ She harshly pushed him away from her door way and stepped out of the car in rage. She didn’t even spare a look at him as she stumbled onto the pavement and inside the hotel but it didn’t take the World’s Greatest Detective to see the bright tracks of tears on her pale face.

After Clara stumbled into the hotel, Bruce got back in the car and closed his door.

\----

Clara tried to silence a sob threatening to escape her mouth with her hand. She was trying to hide within people as she always did but she knew it wasn’t going to work this time. How dare he? How dare he do this to her? What did she ever done to him, anyway? She only wanted to help but he… Why did he keep hurting her, keep breaking her heart when she irreversibly _loved–?_

Clara shook her head to herself. Apparently it was still as unrequited as always. While she embarrassedly tried to hurry into the elevator with all eyes on her, she let that sob escape.

Clara wasn’t a pompous person. She never thought herself better than anyone else just because she had some freakish powers. She never tried to hurt anyone’s feelings just because she was stronger than most. She always tried to find the fault in herself if a polemic ever aroused, always empathized with other people, always gave people the benefit of the doubt, but this time… This time she honestly didn’t feel like she had done anything to deserve this.

She sobbed once again and didn’t even take notice of the janitor as she flung herself in the elevator. The young woman struggled to calm herself down for the stranger’s sake. She wiped the tears away with the back of her hands and gasped silently to steady her breath. But she didn’t even realize the quiet mumbles falling out of her mouth. “I was just… trying to help… I never wanted… any trouble… Why –why does he keep doing this to me?”

“Boy trouble?” asked the janitor suddenly. He had a blue cap with the standard blue working outfit for the staff of the hotel. He was holding onto a cart of cleaning supplies with a bowed head.

Clara sniffled. “Sort of.”

“Hmm, I have my own, too. He’s a… well, angry one, mostly. We have a… passive-aggressive relationship, so it’s generally hard to understand if we’re fighting or making love, y’know. But I’m sure you’ll be alright, Miss Kent.”

“I hope so, too-” Clara stopped dead in mid-sentence and slowly turned towards the man. “How do you know my name?”

Without warning, one of the man’s arms lashed out to her and out of blue, a pink gas started to pour from his sleeve. Clara doubled over and tried to lean on to the elevator wall while coughing and gasping for precious breath. Then the man pulled out a huge mallet from where the mop was supposed to be. The mallet started to fall onto her head before Clara could even pull away. After it broke on her head and sent her falling to the ground, she groaned involuntarily. For the sake of her identity, being mostly out of powers could’ve been considered useful at that moment, but her head hurt worse than she could ever remember and seeing the nonexistent starts before her eyes was never a good sign.

The man was cackling madly as he pulled the cap off of his messy, green hair. The Joker crouched down to her level of sight with his signature manic grin on his pale face. “I bet, as a reporter, you’ve never lived through something like this before. It’s that Lane woman usually getting all the attention, no? Well, I guess it can be your _personal scoop_ of a kidnapping, Miss Kent. Do please enjoy our services. Thank you for preferring the World’s Greatest Joke!”

As he laughed once more, the pink gas started to fill the elevator again. It took Clara a little while, but with no air vent to clean the rapidly increasing gas and no super powers to protect her from the toxin, after 45 seconds of hell, her whole world finally went dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A.N.: Believe me when I say I hate myself, alright? Yeah, thanks.


	4. Chapter 4

### Chapter 4

_“Bruce? Bruce, what happened?”_ spoke Barbara from Bruce’s back-up communicator. _“Are you alright?”_

“I’m fine, Oracle.”

_“Your comm, it went off with a-”_

“I said I’m fine!” Bruce snapped. Then he reminded himself that Barbara had nothing to do with any of his problems. He rubbed the bridge of his nose, sighing a little. “Something exploded and the comm got damaged by a piece of debris,” he lied, despite knowing it probably was as lame as it sounded. “I’m fine.”

_“Uh, okay, B.”_ Uncertainty could be heard from the young woman’s voice. _“I’ll call you when I got enough intel.”_

Bruce contemplated about saying something reassuring or more ‘Batman’ to her, but decided against it and ended the call with a button. Then he sighed once more and threaded his hand through his hair.

“I hope you are not expecting me to say something even remotely positive, Master Bruce,” said Alfred suddenly, cutting through the silence. “Because when I said love was fickle, I did not mean in any way that you were allowed to act like an arse to the woman you love, in order to protect her.” There was a trace of wavering in his usually calm and stoic voice that showed Bruce just how angry the old man really was. “I know what you will say, but, sir, have I really failed to teach you how to be _a man?”_

Pulling the black Kevlar cowl on, Bruce sighed deeply. He didn’t try to offer an excuse to his father figure, as he didn’t even have one. Alfred was right, and God, did he know it. Bruce remembered Clara’s face, her hurtful expression, her anger and her struggles to not to cry again and suddenly, he felt like being stabbed in the chest with a handful of Bowie knives. He knew what he did was never going to be forgotten. Not by Clara or by himself.

But Bruce had to push his guilt-ridden emotions and shut himself down as always, focusing only on what was needed to be done. And at that moment, his Gotham needed him to be her Dark Knight.

Alfred stopped the car in an empty alley. Bruce double checked the street for any unwanted eyes. “Return to the cave, Alfred,” he deadpanned. “Prepare for possible injuries and keep in check with Oracle.”

Alfred looked at him from the rear-view mirror with old, wise but sad eyes. “Very well, sir.”

As he grappled himself up and towards the center of the chaos, Bruce found out that it had never felt this hard to push the memory of a couple of silver tear tracks aside.

\----

As a man and a woman cradling her son ran away from the scene, screaming their heads off, Bane threw the red car he was carrying to the other side of the road, promptly crashing a street lamp on the ground. The loud echoes of gun shots were coming from Deadshot, who was busy plundering an empty shop. Two-Face was cornering two young girls into a corner with his gun, Riddler was beating a man with his cane and Scarecrow was already showing his scare-toxin syringes into his three innocent victims, while Killer Croc was tearing a car apart with his… _teeth._

“Riddle me this,” said Riddler to the whimpering man at his feet, taking a momentarily breather from the beating. “A diamond plate. A glowing grate. A place you never leave. Where am I?”

“The place you shall be when I kick your ridiculous ass into unconsciousness,” answered a voice of a boy. Robin came, descending from a street lamp with his grappling hook and landed right on Riddler’s face with a booted foot, knocking the man down to the pavement. “Jail, which I think, by now, is a place you have reconciled with... _home.”_

He tied Riddler’s hands and feet with Batman’s uncuttable titanium ropes, helped the beaten man up, steering him towards the paramedics waiting by the pile of destroyed cars and opened the comm line. “This is Robin, Riddler is down.”

_“I have Croc,”_ responded Nightwing, sounding slightly breathless, probably from the ongoing fight he was putting up with the said criminal.

_“I’m with Scarecrow,”_ said Red Robin, a clang of his Bo staff accompanying his voice.

_“Two-Face,”_ simply answered Batgirl.

_“Then I guess I’ll have to deal with Bane,”_ came Red Hood’s bored voice. _“Damn, why do I always pair up with him? It’s starting to get dull.”_

_“Stop screwing around and get the job done, Red Hood,”_ Batman finally joined the line. _“I have Deadshot. Robin, help the civilians and prepare the antidote for the scare-toxin.”_

“On it.”

_“Did Bats really just said ‘screwing around’? Man, mark this day, you guys.”_

_“Red Hood!”_

_“Alright, alright! Don’t get your Kevlar in a twist! Yeesh…”_

All the criminals were beaten, unconscious and tied up by the end of the 36 minutes of a ferocious battle as the victims and injured civilians were being taken care of. The vigilantes were grouped in the middle of the damaged street, listening to the head paramedic talk about the state of Crane’s victims.

“They have been exposed to the toxin long enough to start hallucinating,” was saying the blond woman. “But hopefully, they will make full recoveries after a week of therapy and health care. So thank you all.”

Then suddenly a familiar voice came through. “Thank you, too, Sandra,” said Commissioner Gordon. “I will take care of the rest from here.”

When the woman nodded and started to walk away, Batman turned to Jim Gordon, going straight for the point. “What have you got, Commissioner?”

“Well, the only good thing I can tell you is that there are no deaths this time,” started Jim. “Five people are severely injured –they’re being taken to Gotham Memorial right now- and about twenty have slight to recommended-bedrest-under-doctor’s-orders wounds. Property damage is around thirty thousand dollars and that red car belonged to the Mayor.” He paused a little. “You can be sure as hell that he won’t stop talking about this for at least a month. I’m positively sure that I’ll have to make a press conference after that dumbass make his official complaints about the ‘incompetence of the police force’ and the ‘terrors of vigilantes and meta-humans’.” He sighed, suddenly looking older than he really was.

Batman was silent for a beat. “In the conference, tell the press that Wayne Enterprises will cover for the entire property damage and take care of the hospital expenses for the injured people. But about his official complaints, I’m sure you know how to make him shut his mouth off.”

Jim gave a tired smile. “Indeed I do.” Then he slowly dropped the smile. “You realize what’s missing, don’tcha?”

“Uncontrollably laughing victims and excessive amount of dead bodies.” Batman slightly nodded. “Joker isn’t here.”

“And we have next to nothing about his whereabouts. His cell is empty, but as far as we know, he didn’t join the others. There aren’t any unusual reports in the rest of the city. And I can’t tell why he would miss an opportunity to catch unsuspecting civilians in broad day light.”

Batman nodded to himself again. Then he tapped his comm unit. “Oracle, you got all of that?”

_“I did, B,”_ Oracle joined in. _“But Arkham’s security cameras were damaged after the explosion set up by Riddler. The only confirmation we have on his escape is that his cell is empty. And I can’t locate him in any part of the city, for now anyway, so I’ve got nothing, too.”_

“Copy that, Oracle.”

“Maybe there’s someone who can help us find him,” interrupted Jim, a hand on his bearded chin.

“Harley?” asked Red Robin.

“Yeah. Her cell, along with Poison Ivy’s, is also empty, but they don’t seem to be in any part of the city, either.” 

“Well, maybe we can find them more easily,” interrupted Red Hood. “But I don’t think Harley would help you about Joker.”

“Why not?”

“Because last I heard, Ivy was helping Harley to remember her own chemical accident. I guess Harley now knows what Joker did to her and possibly wants nothing to do with him. I think she and Ivy are involved, y'know, romantically, and maybe they’ll find Catwoman and hang out together, but,” he shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“Maybe she’ll rat him out?” asked Nightwing. “I mean, she knew all about his hideout places and if she hates him now, she can help us.”

_“I’ll look up what I can find, B. I think the boys might be right.”_

“Alright. Keep rain check, Oracle.”

_“On it.”_

Batman turned to Jim. “You keep searching for Joker too, Commissioner, but I don’t think you’ll find anything right now. He seems to have chosen stealth this time, and when Joker is stealthy, no one finds him –unless he wants to be found. I’ll make a patrol for him, Harley and Ivy tonight.”

Jim nodded to the Dark Knight. “Copy that. Thank you, Batman.”

Batman said nothing and nodded, then he swiftly fired his grappling hook to a building, prompting the rest of the Bats to do so too.

After making sure that they were grappling high enough, he opened the shared comm line. “I have something to investigate in downtown,” he said, not giving away any unnecessary details. “The rest of you, go back to the Cave and help Oracle about Harley and Ivy’s possible hideouts.”

Grunts of approval met his ears with dimming sounds of grapples. But he frowned when he realized a second grapple was still present. He quickly grappled down to a random roof to wait for the younger man to land and start talking.

“What?”

“You’re sulking more than usual,” stated Dick, going straight for the point. “What’s up?”

“Nothing is up, Nightwing. Go back to the Cave.”

But Dick didn’t take any of his shit. “I just noticed that a certain Woman of Steel isn’t around. I was wondering if something was wrong.”

“She wasn’t needed.”

Dick dropped the slightly mocking attitude and frowned. Bruce generally didn’t tell Superwoman to back off, even though it was his Gotham (he’d like to think that Bruce favored Clara better than anyone else), but that day, and the other day too in fact, he deliberately told Clara to stay down. Even though Dick knew that Bruce had no emotional stability or anything, it was still unusual for him to be like this. “Since when?”

“Since I said so, Nightwing!”

Dick stood there silently for a moment, then scowled hard and took an angry step towards the brooding figure. “You know what B, you might be having a bad day. You might be angry because of the breakout, hell you might even want to just yell at something, and I’ll take any excuses you’d give. But whatever the reason is, I’m sick and tired of being shouted at every single time!” Dick wasn’t even trying to hold his voice down anymore, openly shouting at his mentor and father. “Next time, just find someone else to give your attitude!”

Just as he was reaching for his hook, Batman finally gulped and opened his mouth. “Nightwing, wait.”

Dick, bless his soul, didn’t turn around but didn’t take off either. Bruce rubbed a hand to his face and took a step forward, knowing that he needed to initiate a talk for the young man to stay. “I’m… sorry, alright? I’ve…I’ve been nervous lately and… I had an argument with Clara about this. I didn’t mean to… snap at you.”

When Dick slowly moved and turned around, there was a little grin on his handsome face. “Clara is definitely a good influence on you. And she’s _**so**_ gonna kick your ass when she forgives you for whatever stupid thing you did this time.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Then I think you also know that you should call her, right?”

“I do.”

Dick smiled more genuinely. “Well then, I’ll leave you to it.” He fired his hook. “And, B?”

“Yes?”

“I hope you realize you’re surrounded with people who forgive you quite easily.” He spared a smile over his shoulder. “Your apology is accepted.” Then he gracefully threw himself off of the roof and started to swing between the buildings.

“I do, Dick,” he mumbled to himself. “I really do.” 

Bruce was planning to see Clara personally when he left the city center, but now, he was having second thoughts. Maybe it was better if he didn’t push her at the moment. He slowly took out his civilian phone and called the second emergency number –only to be greeted by a cheerful _“Hey, this is Clara! I’m probably busy right now –or forgot to charge my phone. Leave a message!”_

Bruce sighed at the sweet, alto voice and dismissed the call, not trusting his voice to be steady –or expressive enough. Instead, he decided to send a simple, but not impersonal text. After struggling to find the right words for about five times, he finally fired a _“Hey, see you at the Manor for lunch?”_

Of course, Bruce was ready for being left without a respond but it still stung. Deciding that waiting for a text for ten minutes in a rooftop –and brooding, his kids would say- was enough, Bruce thought it was time to get back to work –as Bruce Wayne, because he knew trying to trail Joker in broad day light would be fruitless. He navigated his swings for the Wayne Tower and quickly changed into his regular clothes –a dark blue, three piece suit and a pair of fine Italian shoes- in his private office. He, obviously, was not checking his phone for a message or a call in every other minute –nope- while notifying Lucius of Clara’s whereabouts. Lucius accepted the excuse of her being incredibly sick without a question and sent her his good wishes. It also stung a little to lie for her absence as it was his fault in the first place, but Bruce tried not to think about it that much. 

He managed to get some of the things done for the gala on Friday, when he decided it was enough. He checked his phone again and tried to tone his worry down. It was 2.30 pm and Clara was still nowhere to be found with no texts or calls. It wasn’t like her to be off of her phone, her laptop or all of her social media accounts (Bruce had not stalked her for the entire day, of course not) for this long. People would think that with her being Superwoman and all, he would be calmer, but it was the exact same reason Bruce was getting anxious. He decided to give himself ten… no twenty minutes to investigate before starting to panic and be his usual, paranoid self. 

He called her again but it was an empty attempt. He took a deep breath and forced himself to calm down, making a quick plan in his head. First, he called her hotel like a normal person would do –like Clara would’ve wanted him to do. The reception patched him to the phone in her room but there was no answer. Then he hacked into the hotel’s security system but only to find out that the facility had no cameras in elevators or the visitor floors. 

He checked out the Metropolis news. Bruce knew that Clara had to Boomtube to her city to stop a bank robbery in the morning, which had Bruce incredibly annoyed with her after he had learned about it later _(‘Seriously, Bruce,’_ she had said. _‘You can’t keep tabs with me every time. Besides, I haven’t used my powers in hours. The whole thing was quite uneventful.’),_ but since then Superwoman hasn’t been sighted in any crime scene. There has been no alien attacks or any emergency calls from the Watchtower. He supposed she could be in Smallville to empty her head, but after checking out dozens of surveillance cameras and supersonic disturbances, it was certain that Superwoman hasn’t been on anywhere in globe in the last six hours.

Bruce checked the time. It’s been only fifteen minutes. _Ah, fuck it._

He started to speculate. 

So if she was truly kidnapped, there wasn’t a lot of people who could’ve done it. He turned on the hacked monitoring camera on Luthor’s office. The bald billionaire was there, doing some… interesting things with a petite, blond woman. Bruce rolled his grayish blue eyes, expression solely unimpressed as he looked through the last six hours on the camera. Luthor had never left after arriving on his office but he supposed he could’ve made someone else do the kidnapping. But he would’ve left his office to check up on his prisoner or talked with someone unusual, like Metallo or someone else on Superwoman’s turf. 

Bruce gritted his teeth. If someone –anyone- wanted to kidnap Clara, he knew it wouldn’t be that hard in her current condition. And if that someone had Kryptonite with them? His heart ached and his head throbbed. Clara had been kidnapped in his turf, on his watch and after he destroyed their friendship because he was too much of a coward to admit anything. 

Bruce shook his head to clear his mind of any emotion.

_Right._ He needed to know where she was. And to do that, he needed to activate the tracker he’d put on her suit. But, Bruce frowned, if he activated it, he knew the tracker’s red light might attract Clara’s captors about him. But he had no choice, he could find her with this.

It took one missing red dot on the tracker’s main screen to crush Bruce’s momentarily high hopes. Clara’s captors, whoever they might be, must’ve noticed the tracker and exterminated it. But the bat shaped little tracker was on the tail of her cape and should be too hard for anyone regular to find it. He scowled even deeper, then punched his massive oak table, hard. He tried to locate her by their League comm, but it was also deactivated. He was incredibly close to breaking the tracker screen just by one squeeze.

Then suddenly, a new mail arrived in his mail box. Bruce was so surprised that he didn’t even comprehend the new object. He opened the mail with shaking hands. Somehow, he just _knew_ that this was nothing about the complaints of the Mayor.

It was from Commissioner Gordon, the only note on the mail being _–‘Was sent for GCPD’s PR. It’s from **him.** ’_ Bruce slowly opened the attachment and just stared at the screen.

It was a photo of two, incredibly familiar people. The Joker was laughing at the screen with that disturbing grin while holding a huge, bloodied lancet. And on his left was… _Clara,_ with her wrists bound by the chains above her head. Her head was dangling to the side with closed eyes, her dark hair was coming down in messy and unkempt curls, her sun-kissed skin was too pale, variations of cuts on her face was bleeding crimson red, her white shirt was wide open, revealing a half torn up bra (thank God for little miracles), a series of other but more serious cuts and her Superwoman suit, in its necklace shape. The photo said _‘Hey, Batsy, having fun? We sure are! Love, your boyfriend, Joker and your girlfriend, Clara Kent a.k.a. Superwoman’_

Bruce saw red just before he punched a hole in his computer screen. He vaguely saw the untraceable computer similar to the one in the Batcave’s come alive and reveal a concerned looking Alfred. “Sir…”

But Bruce didn’t even hear him. He breathed hard and deep, not caring about his bleeding fist or the little pieces of glass inside his flesh. How, how could he have got her, how could he have kidnapped her and hid her away from him, how could he have found out she was Superwoman, _how could he have hurt her?!_

“Sir, please calm down…”

He wasn’t going to call the League or any of the Supers, he wasn’t going to tell about this to anyone who didn’t need to know. This was personal now, more than it has ever been. He didn’t trust anyone but to the people he knew. People who knew Clara, who would take this as hard as he did. To save the woman he loved, he was going to be the vengeance that day.

He put Alfred to the comm link and went deeper into his office to wear his suit. “Alfred,” he said as the Dark Knight rose on his city second time that day. “Call the rest of the _family.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A.N.: Idek if I'm doing this 'angst' thing right, LOL.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Here comes the torture elements.

### Chapter 5

When Clara came back to herself, the first thing she felt was the harsh and constant tug on her wrists. She groaned and coughed, trying hard to get rid of the incredibly disturbing sensation at the back of her throat. When her hysteric coughing stopped, Clara groaned again and squinted her eyes open. 

The place was dark, cold, empty and unfamiliar. There was a… table, covered with a gray, dirty cloth and nothing else. Suddenly she noticed the throbbing on her head. Had she… hit her head somewhere? No, someone else had knocked her out. Yes, that seemed more like it. She frowned to her uncontrollably shivering body and the ruthless throb in her head, and tried to remember what the hell happened.

She remembered being angry, furious even, and then the mallet –seriously a mallet?- and then… _Joker._

Clara struggled around the chains holding her wrists in vain, she felt too weak, too tired. Oh yeah, Joker’s toxin plus her almost powerless state, which had been getting worse by the lack of sun, wasn’t a good match. She struggled once more, trying to stay on her feet without swaying and hurting herself more, but stopped once realizing the noise she was making.

“Well, well, well, look who’s finally awake?” came a voice between the shadows. Then suddenly, the lights started to come to life one by one. Clara moaned a little and squinted her eyes again. “First of all, Miss Clara Jocelyn Kent,” trailed Joker. “I’d like to say that I’m a fan of your work, a big one really. I especially like your columns about human interest stories. Makes you feel… real.”

“What do you want from me?” Clara rasped out.

“Which brings me to our topic at hand,” continued Joker, sounding like repeating a memorized monologue. “Y’know, in Arkham, we’d hear of the outside world once in a while. And sometimes, they’d actually even let us read some real newspapers, too. Would you like to guess what I saw on the paper for five times in the last month, hm?” He opened his arms expectantly. “ _Clara Kent_ investigating a murdered reporter who was believed to know _Batman’s_ identity, _Batman_ in Metropolis, rescuing reporter _Clara Kent:_ hostage of the week, _Clara Kent_ and Commissioner Gordon, exclusive interview about _the Bat of Gotham._ And my favorite, from yesterday, _Clara Kent_ helping _Batman_ save the kid hostages.” He started clapping. “Bravo, indeed.”

Clara tried turn a deaf ear to Joker’s monologue and tested her powers, but she didn’t have much. The still present but not at full capacity strength was useless at the moment, she couldn’t use it without giving her identity away. The x-ray vision was a little unstable but it was still working. Heat vision and cold breath were useless as well. And super hearing was completely out-of-commission. And the restraining chains were pulling her wrists a little too hard, starting to hurt Clara’s supposedly invulnerable skin. Having the strength to escape the bonds in seconds but not being able to do it was incredibly frustrating to the Kryptonian. 

She gritted her teeth in annoyance. She decided that she wasn’t going to talk unless it was needed. She wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of unnecessary words. It was the only thing she could do right now, but at least it made her focus on to something.

“You’re professional in your profession, Miss Kent,” continued Joker. “But, you’ve been getting sloppy lately, which helped my cause, really, with the stunt you pulled on Monday. And when I read the gossip column of Gotham Gazette –Vicki Vale likes to make a scarlet-celebrity out of you, I think she’s hoping for the day she’ll catch you and dear old Batsy in a dark alley, getting all handsy and dirty- I couldn’t help but agree with her. And then I thought, what if they’re all gooey-eyes? Don’t get me wrong, I definitely wouldn’t say no to a polyamorous relationship,” he winked suggestively, “but it just made me… _crazy_ angry.”

Clara tried to comprehend what the Joker just said. “So what?” she asked in a voice she hoped was challenging. “You wanna get rid of me to have Batman all to yourself?”

“Precisely!” exclaimed Joker. “Seriously, it makes me happy when my _guests_ are clever and all! But… there’s something else, too.”

Clara genuinely huffed in annoyance. “Of course there is.”

“I don’t like to reveal my plans to anyone Miss Kent, but I think I’ll make an exception for you,” Joker mumbled, fumbling with her glasses and tracing a cold hand on the young woman’s also cold cheek. When Clara jerked her head to escape from the disturbing touch, he cackled a little. “With having nothing to do but secretly torture the guards in Arkham, I had plenty of time with my own thoughts. I thought, what if… you two were getting it on? What if… you two were close, _too close?_ What if he trusted you enough to… reveal himself? What if you knew his civilian identity? Hmm, what was I to do then?”

Clara gulped a little and diverted her eyes from the sickly white face. Joker just didn’t know how close he was to the truth. Just maybe… without the getting it on part. Unfortunately. “Those are just coincidence,” she lied. “We’re not together. I don’t know anything.”

“No, no, no, no!” Joker paced around, not hearing Clara once again. “I mean, I don’t give a rat’s cute ass about the face behind the cowl, no, but…” He shook his head and sighed. His expression changed from sinister to something like… sadness in seconds. “I always thought him and I were… y’know, _intimate_ enough with our working/flirting business. We spent nearly ten years together but he never slipped, never gave anything away!” He sounded like a petulant child. “But then a random chick shows up, seduces him and finds out who he is! How’s that fair? How are you better than me?!” Then he took a sudden step towards Clara and slapped her.

Clara gasped at the burning feeling while the sound of Joker’s epic bitch slap echoed around the warehouse. Joker looked at her grimace relentlessly. Then his face softened and he stroked the place he slapped. “But then I thought I could relate. I mean, look at you. All adorkableness, awkwardness, mild-blushy-faceness wrapped up in long legs and pretty blue eyes. I get him,” he nodded, agreeing, “I really do. He’s a lonely man with bunch of kids around him and you’re quite fierce. It is understandable.”

He returned to his pacing like a lecturing teacher. “Also, all the other big guys are after you. I mean, look at Lexy-boy and Brucie Wayne, indulging only you of all the reporters, hell even that air-headed Oliver Queen from Star City get in line for you. I comprehend… but do not tolerate.”

“So you’re… jealous?” asked Clara, voice unbelieving and tired. “Really?”

“Indeed, baby girl.” Joker smiled. “Also, I’ve went too long without even killing someone. All I need is a good torture and terrified screams. Plus,” he glared at the ground, “Harley left me for that Ivy bitch and I’m a little resentful about it, so…” The mad man shrugged and looked back at Clara. He slowly started grinning. “Anyway, let’s get to work, shall we? Maybe we’ll even take a break. That is, if you behave.” 

He started laughing and reached for the gray cloth on the table, revealing a series of knives, lancets, syringes, scalpels –and an axe. 

He grabbed the scalpel and walked back to her, ignoring the young woman’s struggles to escape from reach. “Miss Kent, meet your associate for today.” He traced the sharp metal on Clara’s face, thankfully not breaking any skin. “Hmm, where should I start? With your arms?” He cut through the arms of Clara’s shirt with two swift blows. “They look so long and defined. Yeah, I think I’ll start with them for a warm up. Then,” he teared the legs of her pants into shreds, mercifully leaving her crotch covered, “continue with your pretty, pretty thighs.” He dug his fingers in her skin to lift her right leg a little, then made a small cut on her skin. 

Then he abruptly stood up, put his hand on his ear and leaned into her even more upon hearing the little sound of agony she made. “I’m sorry, what was that, love? I couldn’t hear it. Did you just say ‘I think I can take something _bigger,_ Mister J’?” 

Joker grinned and put the scalpel down and changed it with a lancet, two times longer than the previous blade. “Oh, doll face, it would be my pleasure to indulge you. Your wish,” he drawled out. “Is my command.”

\----

“How are we doing, Clarabelle?” shouted Joker. “Feelin’ the burn yet?”

When he released her head from his grip, Clara moaned and let the gravity pull it down. The blood dripping from her arms were pooling in the gap between her arms and shoulders, snaking down to her neck and collar. And with her head bowed down, she could finally see the bloodied state of her legs. She didn’t know how much pain she really felt but she wouldn’t be surprised if it didn’t end at all.

Joker took a step back and made an appreciating sound at his work. “Well, don’t you look just… _delicious...”_ He came back even closer and took out a pocketknife, slashing her cheek open. He didn’t acknowledge the shout of pain coming from the young woman and leaned forward to lick the bleeding wound. Clara shouted even louder with the merciless tongue poking her tender flesh.

"Y'know, Clara dear, nothing gives me more pleasure than hot, thick blood. Although, your blood…” He licked his lips. “It tastes a little… hmm, _different_ –but not unpleasant. You have such… potential.”

“Go to hell…”

“Oh, I probably will!” exclaimed Joker, voice full of joy. “But first, I’d like to get to the main course.” He grabbed the lancet back and put it on the first button of her shirt. “Let’s take the shirt off.”

“No, don’t!” shouted Clara. Her Kryptonian bio tech suit –made of nanites that responded only to her genetic code and would be activated by thought or touch when she needed the whole suit- had been shrunk into its palm sized state, so the Joker hadn’t noticed its existence yet. But it was still under her shirt, hanging from her neck with a single synthetic rope –courtesy of Kelex. “Don’t take it off, please!”

“Well, I just got hundred times more curious!” Joker cocked a brow. “I want to see what you’re hiding between those two perky babies!”

Before Clara could protest further, her shirt was torn open, ruthlessly revealing the made-shift necklace just above her breasts. When Joker didn’t react at first, Clara held her breath. _Maybe he thinks it’s just a necklace,_ she desperately hoped. _Maybe he’ll just see me as a Superwoman fan. Please let him misunderstand, please…_

But, then…

Joker started laughing.

“Would you look at that!” he exclaimed. His voice was incredibly amused and genuinely shocked. His brows was still up in his hairline but his laugh was quite hearty. “I’m honest-to-Devil surprised, and I feel humiliated and fooled. Maiden of Might, the Last Daughter of Krypton, disguising under Clara Kent, hiding in plain sight! I gotta hand it to you, not a lot of people can get me like that! How does it work? Is it the glasses? The clothes, the clean, girlish face, the accent?” 

He took a step to inspect Clara further. “Well whatever it is, you’ve played well Miss Kent –or do I say Miss fly girl Superwoman? I have to admit, this complicates things, but for the better of course! Though at first, let’s get rid of the tracking devices I know you have. Hmm, where to look?”

As his flimsy hands travelled around her, Clara flinched and struggled to break free. When Joker finally found the Justice League comm device hiding in her ear, he took it in a flash and crushed it in his palm. “That’s one. Now, where’s the second?”

“There’s no second,” lied Clara.

“Is that right? So you’re saying that this was the tracking device dear Bats put on you?”

Clara gulped silently. “Batman didn’t put a tracking device on me.”

“Please don’t insult my knowledge, Miss Superwoman,” Joker tutted. “I know how the Bat works. I also know that it must be in somewhere not a lot of people would look –well, that is, if you’re not little ol’ me.” He laughed once more. “Let’s see that fancy suit of yours, love.”

“Screw you.”

“Oh, I’d like that very much! But I bet the Bat wouldn’t be too happy about it. Hmm,” he rubbed his chin, “another reason to hate you more. God, you’re too… _familiar_ with each other. You’re the proof that Batman is indeed human. You’re a liability to him, just like the rest of his Robins. You always, _always,_ hold him back. Ah, now there was a time when the Dark Knight of Gotham was just… _glorious._ I should get rid of all of you to bring him back to his golden days. But… it’s a joke for another day, wouldn’t you agree? Ah, I got carried away again. I do that a lot, you know. Hey, Superwoman, what do you think of electricity?”

“Electricity? What are you _–argh?!”_

“Your suit,” said Joker while pulling the taser away from Clara’s spine. “I’m guessing you activate it by mind control or whatever freakish powers you have, no? Let’s see if I can get you to suit up without even touching you.” 

Joker struck her again, and again and again, until Clara felt the pain thoroughly despite the little amount of invincibility she had left. The shock waves running on her nerves were so intense that she felt like she was losing consciousness –which was why she no longer had the psychic power over the Kryptonian nanites of the shield. With a moan, Clara finally let go and let her suit activate itself. The blue and red alien fabric started to spread from the gray shield to her body.

Joker took a step back and grinned like a kid opening his present. “Now, time to search!” 

He slowly started to pat almost everywhere on her body. Strangely, or maybe not, Clara remembered every time she had to save a woman or a girl –sometimes a boy or two- from physical, verbal or sexual harassment. She remembered how each one of them described how horrible they felt. She had grasped their shoulders and told them that sooner or later, it was going to be alright. That they would always have her if they wanted to talk about it. Somehow, having been a console to those people made her situation a little more… bearable. But Clara was sure that she was going to have nightmares of this moment in many future nights. 

“Aha!” shouted Joker. “There it is!” He pulled the skirts of the red cape towards Clara’s face and showed the little bat shaped tracker to her. “Always so predictable.” He crushed the second tracker with a victorious face –just as he crushed Clara’s last hopes.

“Turn the suit off, will you, love? I want to see your perfect skin a little longer.”

Clara stubbornly lowered her eyes and frowned. 

“Ah, come on, Superwoman. Are we going to do this again?”

Clara didn’t answer.

“Well, your call.”

The next series of jolts ripped agonized screams from Clara. Her back arched against the taser but it only served to hurt her more. She felt the suit slowly fold and form a single S necklace again. 

“How are you feelin’, love? I think you look smoking hot.” Then he paused and laughed at his own joke. “Wait!” He snapped his fingers all of a sudden. “Let’s take a selfie!”

Clara, confused by the change of subject, frowned. “What?”

“Yeah! I bet the old Commish would do the honors to deliver our message to him.” He turned to her. “Hmm, let me just…” Out of nowhere he reached behind her neck and pulled off the single hairband that was holding Clara’s hair up in a ponytail. He fumbled the hair around her bloodied face carelessly and pulled her glasses off. “There! You look even more recognizable!” Then he took out his cellphone and snapped a picture. Clara tried to make a point by not directly looking at the camera, but Joker didn’t seem like he minded. “Perfect!”

Clara tried to look unthreatening to her captor while she looked around for a way out. Her x-ray vision showed a bunch of Joker’s goons waiting just outside of the room they were. She didn’t think Joker –or any of his men- had Kryptonite but she didn’t know for how long she could run, _if_ she managed to break free. And now that she didn’t have any hope to be found either, she just didn’t know what to do. If only she and Bruce hadn’t had fought…

She sighed silently. Bruce… That man was definitely the moodiest, broodiest and the most complex human being she has ever known. He was an enigma wrapped up in black Kevlar and fancy suits. And perhaps it was one of the biggest reasons she loved him this much. She still didn’t understand why he did the things he did, but she knew that Bruce did everything for a reason –whether they were sensible or not was open to debate, but Clara was always ready for an explanation. Not that she always got one, but still…

After Joker finished doing whatever he thought was funny, he turned to her, but he was scowling with confusion.

Clara frowned too and boldly asked, “What?”

“Something is wrong with you, ain’t it?” he asked, voice small and puzzled. He started pacing around Clara once again. “I’ve managed to hurt you so far. That means you’re somehow… weaker.” Then without any warning, he stabbed a syringe to her neck. Clara shouted with surprise and pain as he emptied the transparent liquid in her blood stream. “Well, I don’t know if you have any powers left, but now that you can display them freely, we can’t take any chances of you running away, can we? No.” He harshly patted her cheek. “You be a good girl and play along. I will bring you another toy to play.” He exited the room with scream-like laughs.

Clara looked around with bewildered eyes. What had Joker done to her? Could she run away now? What about Joker’s men around? She tried to look through the walls but her x-vision was blurring –along with her normal eye-sight. She looked back at the chains bounding her and tugged at them. When they didn’t budge, she growled a little with frustration and lowered her head.

That was when she saw them.

They wore the same clothes they did in the night of the accident. They looked young while ruefully smiling at her. Clara shook her head and closed her eyes. “You’re not real.”

“Clara...” said her mom. Her voice was as soft as she remembered from her many memories from Smallville as a little girl.

“Hey, dolly.” Her dad, oh God, her dad who she looked up to in every single situation, spoke with that fatherly and warm tone.

But Clara grimaced, despite how real they sounded. “You are _not_ real!” 

“Yes, baby,” said Marth, surprising Clara and making her open her eyes. “The toxin doesn’t affect you as it would affect anyone else.”

“You’re aware of the reality but us as well,” continued Jonathan. “Which is possibly the main reason that will drive you crazy.”

Clara didn’t know whether or not to believe her dad but she rattled the chains again. Why didn’t they break? She was sure she had loosened them a little before. Or, had she?

“Clara, you can break free!” shouted Martha. Clara flinched with the sudden change of her voice. “Break free before he comes back!”

She didn’t know if they were a part of her subconscious but Clara agreed with them. She ignored the pain from the previous cuts and yanked the chains. But the chains, they were… getting tighter? “I can’t!” she said desperately. “My wrists hurt!”

Then suddenly, her wrists started to bleed. Clara gasped at the blood trailing down on her skin. But the blood, it was thick and warm and… was now coming from her mouth.

She didn’t know why it was happening. She wasn’t even sure if it was possible to bleed with no apparent reason. It wasn’t real, was it? The young woman tried to assure herself out loud, to prevent herself from going crazy, but the blood was chocking her. No matter how hard she tried, it didn’t stop pouring out or leaking in. 

Just as Clara thought she was going to die from suffocation, it stopped. When she looked down at herself, there was no trace of the blood in anywhere. 

That was when the screams started.

They sounded familiar, vivid and too close but there was no body she could match the voices with. Some were just screams but some shouted things Clara didn’t understand. There were women, men and children among the voices but the only thing they had in common was how terrified they were. Clara shut her eyes and willed them to stop. 

She realized they indeed did stop when the first thud was heard.

Bodies. Dozens of dead, bloodied and literally torn apart bodies laid on her feet. Clara recognized her best friends Lois and Jimmy, her parents, members of the Justice League, Karr and Kon and the whole Batfamily –including Alfred and _Bruce._

Clara let out a shrill scream. How-how did this happen? They weren’t here before, this wasn’t supposed to be real! How did Joker even get to them?!

“He got help, of course,” answered a voice. From the shadows a familiar person stepped out. “You missed me, Superwoman?” asked Lex Luthor. “Or should I say Clara?”

Clara tried talking but no sounds came from her mouth. 

“Well, maybe you’re disappointed to see me, but perhaps you would appreciate your old play mate.”

Suddenly a hand, more like a talon, went through her chest. Clara gasped and gurgled at the sight of Doomsday. But strangely, it didn’t hurt. It was almost like a shadow of the past, a mere memory… until it was real. 

Abruptly a mind blowing pain flooded through her, it was like her heart was truly being ripped out. Soon she was getting dizzy by her never ending screams. But she couldn’t help herself, the pain was so real that it must have been unreal. Did that… make any sense? She didn’t know anymore. It was so unfamiliar, so intense, so…funny.

All at once, the pain stopped, leaving only a dull ache behind. She could feel the tears in her eyes and on her cheeks, could feel the sweat surrounding her body. Clara didn’t know what was happening anymore, she just… needed it to stop. And it was funny, too funny, funnier than Batman dancing around in his black suit, funnier than the whole Justice League being drunk and doing limbo, funnier than Lex Luthor marrying Lois Lane, funnier than anything she’s ever known. All Clara needed to do was… laugh. She somehow had a feeling like she shouldn’t do that but… it also felt like if she laughed, everything would be over.

So she laughed.

Laughed and laughed and laughed until her whole body burned with it.

 _“Good girl, Clara!”_ shouted a voice. “You’re learning it! It feels incredible doesn’t it?”

Clara kept laughing and the mad man laughed with her for what felt like an eternity.

“Most people would have passed out multiple times till now,” said the man. “I appreciate your hard-headedness and obstinacy about staying awake –it makes things more enjoyable. And for that, I think you do deserve a break. Soak her up, boys!” 

Clara shouted when the ice cold water was dunked on her. “Refreshed, love?”

She tried to spit out the water. Her brain felt dull as the pain, screams, images of Doomsday, the need to laugh, feeling of the blood and the bodies of her nightmares just stopped, but she couldn’t comprehend anything anymore.

“You just had a taste of my newest toxin, Supes. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did. Y'see, it's chemical foundation is hydrophobic -so when the victim is exposed to water it goes _-poof!_ I needed someone to try it on, anyways, so it was a win-win situation.” He laughed again and Clara winced, not wanting to hear it ever again. “Well, that’s enough break and Chem lesson for you, Big Blue. Let’s get back to business.” 

He took his hand out and a man put a dark gray box in it. When he opened the lid, Clara groaned and grimaced at the sight of the green, glowing rock. “You like it? It’s just for you, hon, special delivery from Metropolis. Well, when I say delivery I mean a robbery but,” he shrugged, “Same difference, ain’t it?”

“Did Luthor let you take this?” managed Clara, not being able to look at the Kryptonite directly.

“Maybe, or maybe not. A gentleman never kisses and tells, now, does he? Hey, I just had a crazy idea! Do you have any tattoos, Supes?”

Clara didn’t know which answer was the right one, but apparently Joker didn’t even need one. “You don’t? No way! That’s outrageous, doll face, I cannot have you tattooless!” He scratched his chin with the Kryptonite. “Hmm, so what would you like as your first, love? An _‘S’_? Nah, too cliché. Perhaps something like _‘with love, from Joker’_? Nope, too mouthful. I need something short but meaningful. Hmm…” 

Then he snapped his fingers, face twisting into joy. “Aha! I got it! I’m gonna send a blank message! But first, I need to sign the envelope, right?” He put a hand on her flat stomach. “Careful, now. This is going to hurt.” 

Joker grinned and started to carve on her soft flesh.

Clara didn’t know if it was cumulated exhaustion, the Kryptonite or the vulnerable place Joker choose, the slashes on her skin hurt like hell. She tried to stop her screams, tried to stop feeling this helpless, this weak, but nothing worked. Joker’s grip on her waist was surprisingly strong. He tightened his grip whenever she struggled around –and it only hurt worse. 

“Ah, there!” shouted Joker when he finished his carving. “It looks perfect. Red looks good on you, Supes.” He traced the red letters of _Ha, Ha, Ha!_ with harsh fingers. “But, oh my, we didn’t put an address! We don’t want it to get lost before it gets to the owner. Let’s see… Somewhere visible enough…” He caressed her neck, her collarbones and stopped on the plain just above her breasts. “I promise, this will be even better than the first one.”

“Please stop,” mumbled Clara desperately, when he finished carving a very detailed replica of Batman’s symbol on her chest, next to her S necklace. Her voice was hoarse and she couldn’t even see properly. She wasn’t quite begging yet but she was damn close. “Joker, I don’t know Batman’s true identity, he never tells anyone. Just, stop it…”

“Is that so?” Joker’s mocking and careless attitude changed into something more serious. “Well then, I think you’re a horrible liar, Clarabelle. You’ve already exposed too much to convince me otherwise. However,” he started nodding like he was agreeing with himself, “if I were to torture you for the identity of Batsy, I strangely enough think that you wouldn’t budge –and I applause your loyalty, really, I do. Unfortunately it’s not gonna help you out of this situation, love. But, wait.” He cocked his head to the side and smiled. “You’re so loyal, so unbreakable for just a man and his family –but do you think he would show the same protectiveness for you?”

“He would,” Clara pushed adamantly. “Of course he would.”

“Well, I hate to break it to you, doll face,” said Joker, expression full of pure joy, like he was revealing the truth of a long-lasting lie to a five-year-old. “But he wouldn’t. Maybe he wouldn’t actually sell you out, but he would lie and risk another life for yours or would just escape the question entirely, in a tactical way. He wouldn’t do the same sacrifices you would –he may be a hero under a name, yes, but that doesn’t equal to being honorable. Do you see it now, how he’s not worth it, how far he is from feeling love for someone else? He left his own Robin to die at my hands, you know.”

Clara could almost hear the growly bass voice of Batman ordering her not to get angry and reckless. _Calm down, Kent,_ she told herself. _He’s trying to get to you, don’t give him the satisfaction. He knows nothing about Bruce._

“You’re not obeying me, love,” scowled Joker. “I. Asked. You. A. Question.” He stabbed different parts of her body as a dot. Upon hearing her agonized voice, he made a pleased sound. “Ah, that’s better.” He sat the Kryptonite down. “I wonder, how long it will take him to find you. Will he even notice? It’s been hours, you know. With you being an alien and all, I bet he doesn’t even care-!”

_**BOOM.** _

The small windows around the warehouse shattered as a gas bomb exploded inside, knocking half of Joker’s goons down easily –but the only thing Clara could do was just hanging there dizzily. The sounds of gunfire and the gas were effecting her, making her feel even weaker than she already was. At that moment, she didn’t even care if they were attacked by some mob boss or a warlord. She was too damn… _hopeless._ She almost thought she was imagining a black clad figure and fighting sounds. She didn’t want to get her hopes high, but one way or another, she still needed to wait until the gas disappeared to confirm her suspicions.

When the rest of the fighting figures dropped to the ground one by one, the gas finally started to open up. The outlines of last two figures taking blows at each other could be noticed more now. Clara squinted her eyes to see them better, and…

There he was –as the Batman, escaping the axe on Joker’s hand, tripping him to the floor and beating him into a bloody pulp. 

She could see that with each of Batman’s punches, the blood dripping from Joker’s crooked mouth was increasing –but despite the chocking sounds he was making, he kept laughing like the mad man he was.

Batman growled and literally threw Joker on the ground and immobilized him with a knee to his throat. “Hi, Bats!” Joker choked out. “What a lovely surprise!”

Batman punched him again, then reached for his utility belt, quickly pulling out a syringe from one of the pouches and swiftly stabbing Joker with it. As the laughter started to extinguish, Batman scowled some more and gritted his teeth. “A dose of 24 hours of artificial sleep,” he growled out. “It should keep you off your feet for a while.” Then he punched the other man for one last time. “And don’t you ever, _ever_ make predictions about me.”

When he heard a groan coming from someone else, he lifted his head up to look at the source of the sound. “Clara…”

She looked even worse than the photo Joker had sent to him. Blood kept dripping from the countless cuts on her arms, face and legs. To his relief, her hips and breasts were still covered. The red letters on her stomach and the bloodied bat on her chest made him stop breathing for a moment. He felt his pulse rocket with anger and guilt. Of all the people, why did it have to be her?

He rushed to her side and looked at the lock holding the chains together. He quickly looked around and noticed the multiple sharp blades on a nearby operating table. He gritted his teeth once again and angrily lashed out for one. When he turned around to face her and saw Clara flinch away from the blade, his heart shattered in his chest. He breathed deep through his noise in an attempt to calm himself and slowly reached to her wrists, trying to stop his fingers from trembling as he picked the lock.

When Clara’s hands were finally freed, she started to fall down with nothing holding her up anymore. Batman caught her just in time, right before her knees hit the ground. He cradled her in his arms as gently as he could but grimaced as she groaned with pain. She looked really bad, breakable, vulnerable and… _human_ in his arms –and it terrified him.

“Clara, can you stand?”

Clara merely nodded weakly against him.

“Okay, lean on to the table for a second.”

When she did as he said, Batman quickly unclasped his cape from his cowl and covered Clara’s shivering form with it. “Thank you,” mumbled Clara, voice trembling. 

“Clara, tell me honestly,” started Bruce. “Did he… did he do anything to you?”

“Other than the _mild_ torture?” She didn’t want to tell him about the verbal attacks, the touches or the innuendos –not when she could see how angry he already was. “He didn’t force himself on me, if that’s what you’re asking.”

She hold on to him tighter when she heard him sigh in relief. Then she inclined her head to the unmoving form on the ground. “What about him?”

“GCPD is already on their way. They’ll deal with him.”

“How did you find me?” She didn’t protest as Bruce wrapped an arm around her waist and draped her arm on his shoulders. “He destroyed the comm unit and your tracker.”

“I found Harley and Ivy’s hideout place via Selina and asked them. They were quite helpful, actually.”

She smiled slightly. “Thank them for me, will you?”

He nodded silently. 

Just as they managed to take a few steps forward, Clara abruptly stopped. “Wait.”

“What?”

“He knows my identity.” She looked at him with blue and fearful eyes. “Joker knows I’m Superwoman. We need to erase his memories or take him with us or-”

“Clara, calm down.” He cupped her cheek to make her stop talking. “I’ll call Zatanna or Doctor Fate to handle his memories.”

Clara nodded. Then frowned again. “He also has some Kryptonite. It’s not that big of a piece but it definitely can’t stay here. I need to take it to the Fortress.”

Bruce considered that for a second. They couldn’t leave Kryptonite here –God knew what would happen if any of Gotham’s scums got their hands on it. But its radiation was still effecting Clara and he was aware that he couldn’t even grab the rock to put it on his belt without hurting her more or letting her go. “I’ll call Nightwing to deal with-”

His sentence was interrupted with a hit to his head. The sudden strength of the blow made him accidently let go of Clara and fall to the cold floor. _How could it be?_ he thought bewilderedly, as he rolled on the ground to see the manic expression on Joker’s face. _The syringe was supposed to keep him in an artificial coma. How-_

Out of nowhere a loud thud came and suddenly Joker was falling to the ground once again. He looked up from Joker’s unconscious form to see Clara standing –with the brightly glowing Kryptonite in her hands.

 _She must have hit his head with it._ And Bruce felt furious with her because of that. “What the hell are you doing Clara?!” he shouted as he got up. “Put the Kryptonite down!”

And she did –as she fell to the ground with it.

“Clara!”

Bruce checked her pulse and pupils when he came to her side. She was still conscious, but just barely. “You dumb idiot!” He took her in his arms as he stood up. He couldn’t even find the correct insults to shout. “The fuck did you think you were doing? You’re already wounded! Are you trying to kill yourself?!”

As he walked out of the warehouse, Clara started stirring. “I can walk myself.”

“No. Don’t be stupid.”

“If you don’t let me go, I’ll throw myself down.”

“No, you won’t, Kala. You’re barely alive and awake.”

Clara childishly pouted but left it at that, curling to her best friend even more.

Bruce made a quick call to Cyborg. “Victor, this is Batman. Superwoman has been abducted-”

_“WHAT?! What happened?”_

“Calm down, Cyborg. I have her but she needs medical attention. Don’t alert the rest of the League, just prepare the medbay and boom Doctor Leslie Thompkins to the Watchtower. Then boom us.”

_“Copy that, Bats.”_

“Thanks, Vic. Batman out.”

Just as they were exiting the main doors of the warehouse, they heard familiar voices shouting at each other. Bruce looked at Clara’s tired but deeply concerned face and kept walking.

“Where’s she? Where’s Kala?!”

“Kon, calm down, please!”

“No Karr, I want to know where she is and why they didn’t tell us!”

“Because Batman asked as not to, Superboy. Please calm down.”

When Bruce finally stepped out, every single eye turned to them.

“K-Kala?” asked Karr, light blue eyes widening with surprise and concern.

As Bruce finally let her down, Clara smiled a little. “Hey, cousin.”

And in a blur a body threw itself on her, hugging her tightly. Kon’s embrace made Clara grimace a little but she tried to hug him back as strong as she could. After a second, Karr joined them too. The Kryptonian boys gently surrounded their traumatized family member, as Clara hold on to them, gingerly stroking their hair and heads.

 _They’re crowding her too much._ But Bruce couldn’t find it in his heart so separate them, so he turned to Tim and Dick. Tim stepped forward in a bashful face. “I’m sorry, Bruce.” He scratched his neck. “It slipped out of my mouth and then Kon told Karr-”

“Why didn’t you call us?!” growled Kon. 

“Kon-”

“No, Kala, you’ve been missing for hours and he doesn’t even call us! What right did you have?! She’s family!”

Bruce frowned at how much Clara and Conner resembled each other. “What right did I have? The Joker had Kryptonite. What good would you have been to the situation if you get affected as well?”

Kon was silent but his glare didn’t subdue. “Whatever. We’re taking her to the Fortress.”

“No.”

“What-?!”

“The trip is too long and risky. The Watchtower will boom us. It’s safer.”

Just as Kon was opening his mouth to say something, Karr put a hand on the clone’s shoulder and stopped him. “He’s right, Kon. But we’re coming along.” Then he turned to him with a stubborn expression on his face. “Sorry, Batman, but you can’t stop us.”

Bruce didn’t say anything and let them take it as a yes.

Then Dick took a step forward and said, “I’m coming along, too.”

“Yeah, me too,” Tim butted in.

“No, Tim, you’re staying here. You will report to the GCPD, collect the leftover Kryptonite and retreat to the Cave.”

“But-”

“That’s an order, Red Robin. I don’t want any complications.”

Tim frowned behind his domino mask. “Whatever. It’s not like Dick isn’t gonna tell us everything.”

“Then you have no further reasons to be here.”

“Hey, you two,” Dick interrupted them. “You’re all missing the point. I think the real concern here should be Clara. So why don’t you just chill, okay?”

Tim stared at Bruce for a while longer, then backed down a bit, slightly nodding to Dick.

Bruce tried not to feel too much guilt about being a jerk to his son.

_“Batman, we’re ready for you. I’m opening the portal.”_

The remaining members of the house of El slowly let go of Clara as Bruce reached out to her. Clara let him hold onto her arm but quietly refused his proposal to carry her. She managed to stay awake during their short journey inside the Boomtube, but gave Bruce a little warning and promptly passed out as they sat foot on the medbay.

Bruce hold her tight, never to leave her again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A.N.: I’m a little… whelmed with this chapter.
> 
> P.S.: I hope it’s not too late, but happy birthday Mel.


	6. Chapter 6

### Chapter 6

When she started to gain the slightest specks of consciousness, the first thing Clara noticed was the soft and incredibly comfortable bed she was laying on. She felt the light of her warm, beloved sun caressing her face in gentle waves. The Kryptonian sighed a little as she enjoyed the rays on her skin for a moment.

When she felt like her little sunbathing session was over, Clara tried to prop herself up on her elbows. _Where am I?_ she thought as she groaned in pain. Every joint, every muscle in her body felt rusty from what seemed to be long-term immobility but… How long has she been sleeping? Twelve hours, maybe fifteen? Then why did it feel too painful to move?

Out of nowhere a hand came, shoving her back on the comfortable bed, and with the sudden rush of dizziness she felt, Clara couldn’t even protest. She rubbed her eyes with the heels of her palms and finally opened them –to see a pair of pale green eyes and short gray hair. Clara frowned. “Doctor Thompkins?”

“Yes, Superwoman.” The lines of worry slightly eased on Leslie Thompkins’ old face as she forced Clara further into the bed. “You’re in the medical bay of your fancy satellite, and you’re safe.”

Clara nodded a little. “How long was I out?”

To her mild concern, Leslie looked at her with a troubled expression. Then she finally sighed and said, “A week and a half.”

Clara eyes widened as she tried to get up again. “W-what?! How? Why?”

Leslie frowned while she pushed her down again, full on doctor mode. “What’s the last thing you remember?”

Clara forced herself to remember as she stared at the sun from the full length window on her room. The memories came at an agonizing pace –some parts too fast, some parts too slow. She unconsciously touched her midsection through the hospital gown and felt the unfamiliar bandages with the tips of her fingers. “Joker… and Kryptonite…”

Leslie gravely nodded and started to explain. “Yes, you were at the brink of death when they brought you here. I managed to clean your wounds and bandage them –they will most probably heal completely and leave no scars behind. By sleeping and sunbathing for ten days, you’re fully recovered from your weakened state. The effects of Kryptonite and severe electrocution took your body longer to cope, but you’re physically fine right now. Though I still don’t know why you didn’t wake up once your body was fully recharged, I’m guessing it was a psychological side effect of the trauma you’ve experienced. But overall, I believe you’ll make a full recovery.”

“Thank you, Doctor.”

“Well, I’ve never had an extraterrestrial patient before, so it pretty much makes up for the little amount of trouble you’ve caused me.” A little smile played on her chapped lips. “Also, waking up after ten days, your body needs readjusting to being awake, so you will take a week off. Doctor’s orders.”

“But-”

“No buts, Superwoman. If I hear that you left your bed to go heroing before a week is over, I swear I’ll find out how to get a piece of Kryptonite.”

Clara cocked a brow. She knew that Leslie was a good doctor –better than the most, perhaps- but how beyond anyone’s crap she was, surprised the young woman. She slowly nodded and the old doctor nodded back. 

“Normally I wouldn’t allow any visitors, but your sons have been waiting since the second you arrived here. I’ll send them in.” She got up from a nearby chair and walked to the door. Then she turned to look at Clara. “Take care, Superwoman.”

“I will. Thank you, Doctor Thompkins.”

Leslie snorted a little. “At least, you’re more understanding than Batman at this.”

The second she opened the door and walked out, two blurring figures came in and stopped next to each side of Clara’s bed. Clara smiled as Kon sat on her bed with a pouty face and Karr grabbed her right hand, squeezing it lightly.

“How are you, Kala?” asked Karr, smiling gently.

“I’m fine, you guys. Really. Doctor Thompkins told me I was out of it for ten days but I feel just fine.” She shrugged carelessly. Then she went in for a change of subject. “Well, I mostly did nothing the last week and a half. Tell me what you’ve been doing, boys.”

Karr saw right through her but indulged her, nonetheless. “Nothing much. I took a week off from the work to take care of Metropolis in your absence. Kon helped as much as he can whenever he found time from his schoolwork.”

“What?” Clara asked, upset that she had unintentionally ruined their daily life. “Guys, you didn’t have to, someone from the League could’ve done it instead.”

“We know, Kala,” said Kon. “But we wanted to handle it ourselves.”

“And I’m sure you’ve handled it wonderfully but… I just feel bad.”

“Don’t, Kala.” The blond Kryptonian grabbed her shoulder tenderly. “You were there for us whenever we needed help. We’re family. It was the least we could do.”

“Instead of going and killing that bastard clown,” growled Kon.

“Kon…”

“I know, I know,” Kon cut her before she could start lecturing. “But, honestly, I was so close to doing it. That son of a bitch abducted you and hurt you, Kala. Tim promised to call me next time they faced him. Even Batman didn’t object to it.”

Clara knew Kon well enough that he wouldn’t do anything wrong, so she watched the youngest Kryptonian’s wild hand gestures about how he was going to rip Joker’s green hair from his flesh and let herself chuckle a little.

“Also,” started Karr when he finished laughing at Kon. “That doctor lady, Thompkins I think, made us promise to make sure you followed her orders until you’re better. She warned us about your reluctance about staying at home and letting us protect Metropolis, so we’ll keep checking on you frequently.”

Clara laughed. “My boys, all grown up and looking after me…” She shook her head. “It’s okay, guys. I’ll take bedrest for a couple of days.”

“A week, Kala,” pushed Karr. “And no objections.”

As Clara ignored the slight pain in her torso and laughed again, the door knocked, then opened ajar. “Kala,” said Wonder Woman, standing in the doorway with all her Amazonian glory. “May I come in?”

Clara smiled at the sight of her best friend. “Yeah, Di, come in.”

“The boys…”

“It’s okay, Wonder Woman,” said Karr, his voice taking a turn into Superlad’s strong and formal one. “We should patrol Metropolis and National City anyway.” They bid their silent farewells by gently hugging Clara, and left the room.

Diana came to Clara with calm strides and sat next to her sheet-covered legs. The Amazonian goddess looked relieved more than concerned, but the undertones of worry was still present on her beautiful face. Nevertheless, she smiled at the other woman warmly, letting her usually stoic demeanor slide for her best friend. “The rest of the League wanted to come in too, but Doctor Thompkins didn’t want people crowding over you. How are you feeling, sister?”

“I’m fine, Diana. Better than I thought I would be.”

“I’m glad, Kala.” 

They sat there silently for a moment, both of them staring at the sun’s serene beams. Diana was one of the few people Clara had the privilege to know almost completely. They had been the best of friends, sisters in everything but blood since they had met –and it haven’t taken them long until both women gained the ability to see through each other’s masks. So when Clara noticed the slightly off expression on Diana’s face, she frowned at her friend. “What is it, Diana?” 

“We didn’t know,” said Diana, voice a little hostile.

Clara tilted her head with confusion. “Know what?”

“We didn’t know you were missing until he brought you here. He didn’t tell any of us.”

“But… why?”

Diana shook her head strongly. “I do not know and I try not to feel angry at him, Bruce is my friend and I trust his judgement, but he still hadn’t given us any explanation as to why he withheld your whereabouts. Any of us could’ve find you in mere minutes, sparing you of all the pain and suffering you had to go through, but his reasoning –or _pride-_ made him act alone. Does he not trust us, while we trust him with our lives? How dares he make decisions as big and important as this all by himself?”

Clara didn’t answer for a long while. Maybe her judgement was biased, but she didn’t think of the situation as harshly as Diana did. Though, that didn’t make her mull this over any less. She tried to think how Bruce would act while facing Diana’s rightful accusations. He would probably say something about crowding in his Gotham, and use unwanted media attention as an excuse, but no one would know about his real intentions –as she still didn’t know anything about his earlier behavior.

Clara tried to ignore the lump in her throat. “Where is he now?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t see him in these past ten days.”

Clara’s gut clenched. He didn’t even come to see her? Was he… was he _disgusted_ by her?

She uselessly tried to swallow that lump and decided to ignore her own feelings for the sake of the balance between her best friends. “He’s a busy guy,” she managed. “I’m sure he’s still in Gotham, fixing things. I will call him once I get to my apartment.”

Diana looked like she didn’t believe the Bat would take ten days to fix any chaos in his city, but she didn’t say anything further. “I should go,” she said, after reluctantly nodding. “You look like you’re about to fall asleep again. Do you require anything else, sister?”

“No, Diana, thank you. And tell the rest of the team I’m okay, yeah?”

“Of course, Kala.”

After Diana leaned down to kiss the crown of her head and left her alone in the room, Clara finally realized that she was actually too tired to stay awake. But her uncontrolled thoughts kept coming, refraining her from the much needed sleep. Surely, Bruce could’ve talked with Leslie without telling anyone, right? Maybe he… wanted to keep check on her privately? He… he cared about her wellbeing, didn’t he?

 _‘Why would he care about an alien?’_ said a voice in her head, sounding suspiciously like the Joker. _‘Why would he care about you?’_

 _‘He does care about me,’_ Clara argued with herself. _‘He does… He’s my best friend!’_

_‘Keep telling yourself that, love.’_

Clara shuddered at the haunting nickname in her head and tried to banish Joker’s voice. She was going to call Bruce when she got back on Earth, and he was going to answer the call, just like he always did.

Clara assured herself with that thought but somehow it felt… a little _empty._

\----

Clara called Bruce after she got back to her apartment. She called him when she saw the regular news of Batman dealing with the criminals in Gotham. She called him when she saw him on the tabloids with his recent arm-candy, posing for charities and galas. She called him when she returned to the Daily Planet and no one hadn’t even asked her where the hell she’d been the past twenty days. She called him when he didn’t show up on their League meetings. She called him when she felt like crying after a nightmare full of blood, screams and Joker. 

She texted him, emailed him, left him voice messages. She phoned the manor in day and cave at night, but it was always Alfred telling her that Master Bruce was either busy or out. Finally, she tried to reach him via Wayne Enterprises, but his secretary hung up on her the second she heard her name, saying that Mr. Wayne had strict orders about not wanting to hear anything from her. 

That finally burned down the last speck of hope she had left.

Bruce had made it crystal clear that he didn’t want to talk to her and even though Clara still didn’t understand why, she wasn’t going to try anymore. She wasn’t going to try because somehow, hearing Caroline shouting at her to not call again made her feel like… _just a clingy broad,_ as Bruce had once called her. 

So she slowly put her phone down and finally let go. She cried without making a sound, curled around herself in the darkness of her little apartment, staring into the night with empty eyes –until she passed out into a dreamless but uneasy sleep, after crying her heart out for thirty minutes.

In the shadows of his cave, sitting in front of his monitors and watching the young woman cry herself to sleep, the Bat’s exhausted heart cried with his Kryptonian.

\----

In the morning, Clara woke up with a sourness she couldn’t describe –nor cope. Yet, she still prepared herself breakfast, dressed herself in Clara Kent’s humble clothes and left for the Planet. When she arrived to the bullpen, she said hi to Lois, accepted Jimmy’s offer to bring her a cup of coffee and quickly disappeared behind the walls of her cubicle, starting to edit the article she and Lois had finished the other day. She tried not to show any of her emotions to her colleagues, and it worked like a charm, as no one really paid much attention to Clara Kent. She was doing just _fine._

Until _he_ came.

She was almost finished with her article when she heard Perry’s deliberate shout of a "Welcome, Mr. Wayne, sir!" –and that was all it took to make her feel like the whole world was collapsing all at once.

 _I need to leave,_ she desperately thought as her eyes darted around, looking for a subtle escape. _I… I can’t see him. I can’t break down here, not in front of everyone. I need to leave._

Bruce looked as painfully beautiful as always with his sharp clothes, perfectly neat dark hair, deep blue eyes and a fake but charming grin. Clara’s heart ached with longing as she bit the inside of her cheek, trying to decide what she was supposed to do, should they have to interact with each other.

Almost everyone on the bullpen got up to greet their financial boss with smiles and nods –or with dreamy sighs on Cat Grant’s side- but Clara hunched her back deeper and buried herself into her laptop even more.

She sighed in relief when she saw Perry walking Bruce to their conference hall while chatting about the press run of the papers. Clara silently went back to her work, mentally encouraging herself to forget about Bruce’s presence in the building. And she almost managed it, concentrating on the article –until Perry shouted right next to her cubicle.

“Kent!”

Clara jumped in her seat with genuine surprise. “Uh, yes chief?”

“Mr. Wayne will give an exclusive interview. Get your stuff and come to the conference hall.”

“Uh, but chief—”

 _“Right now,_ Kent. And don’t call me chief.”

“I… why can’t someone else interview him?” Clara tried to escape the impossible situation.

“He asked specifically for you,” said Perry in a dismissive manner.

“I… I can’t.”

“And why is that, Kent?” She could see that her boss was getting angry as he leaned down with an irritated frown.

“B-because…” Clara tried to think of an excuse, only to come up with an incredibly poor one. “Because I need to go to the bathroom! Y’know, _girl stuff.”_

Perry stared at her with a solely unimpressed face and cocked a brow. “I’ve been living with a wife for the last 30 years, Kent. You can’t gross me out with your girl stuff. Be in the hall in two minutes, no more excuses.”

As Perry left her side, Clara got up, running to the toilets as fast as she could without her super speed, checked out if the toilets were empty by using her x-ray vision and threw herself in with a red face. She tried to think a way out of this while she took her glasses off and washed her face to calm down. 

Clara was forever going to deny the shriek/gasp/choking sound coming from her when she closed the tap and looked at the mirror to see a very familiar face staring at her.

“What are you doing here?” she managed to rasp out.

A side of Bruce’s mouth curled with an amused smile. “Everyone knows that Kryptonian females don’t have _girl stuff.”_

Clara blushed deeply, catching what he meant. Because yes, Bruce knew as well as she did that Kryptonian physiology –in any gender- didn’t need a cycle of menstruation to have gametes –their systems automatically started producing when the body was profoundly aroused.

“I don’t think it will be good if we’re seen here together.” Bruce’s voice was clear and smooth while his eyes shone with surpassed mischief. Clara’s gut clenched pathetically. “And I don’t think we shouldn’t push our luck with that while in a bullpen full of journalists. Come.”

Then he checked the hall and stepped out.

Clara didn’t follow him immediately. He… he came here like nothing was wrong, demanding an interview after not talking a single word to her for almost three weeks and telling her to follow him like he owned the place? Was she really going to follow him?

In her heart, she painfully knew the answer. Yes, she was going to follow him because she was quite helplessly fallen for him and yes, he did actually own the place. But it was also a yes, because she needed answers. And Clara would be damned if she didn’t get those answers out of Bruce, even if he didn’t want to give them to her willingly. 

Now he was on her turf.

As she stepped into the hall, Clara cursed her heart for feeling better just because they were bickering and taunting each other like they always did.

\----

When he noticed that Clara didn’t come in to the conference hall after him, he sat down on one of the chairs around the huge, round table and waited nervously. Thankfully he didn’t need to wait much as Clara entered the room about 10 seconds later. He sat a little straighter and tried to school his face into a calm but serious expression as Clara closed the door behind her, despite the ongoing storm he felt inside. 

Bruce’s fake smile slowly disappeared as he noticed that she wasn’t meeting his eyes or moving away from the doorway. He decided to try a different angle.

“Joker’s memories had been deleted thoroughly by Zatanna and Constantine,” he informed her. “They assured me that there was no trace of Superwoman or her real identity inside his head anymore. And I have taken the piece of Kryptonite from the scene. It’s currently locked down inside the lead storage in the cave. I thought you’d like to know.”

Clara only nodded silently as she looked out from the windows covering the walls of the room they were in. 

“Maybe you should sit,” Bruce tried, calm demeanor slowly slipping away.

Clara didn’t answer.

“Clara…”

Clara dropped her gaze to the floor, but still didn’t answer.

“Kala,” he called out, his voice a little louder than a soft whisper. “Will you sit with me? Please?”

Clara finally lifted her head from the ground to look at him upon hearing his uncharacteristically pleading voice. His face looked… sad, defeated and desperate. His steely blue eyes looked older than they really were. But then again, Bruce’s eyes always looked a little old if you knew the right way and the right time to look at them. _Why can’t I say no to this man?_ Clara asked herself, as she sighed and slowly started to move inside the room. She sat down on the chair next to him but angled it slightly –so that he wouldn’t see her face unless she turned to look at him.

After a beat of silence, Bruce dejectedly sighed and started talking. “Look, Clara… You have every right to be angry with me and I’m… I’m not good at this but…there are things I have to say.” He looked expectantly to her, waiting for a reaction. When he didn’t get one, he took a deep breath and ran a hand into his hair. Then, in the corner of his eye, he saw her tenderly nodding and his eyes brightened. He kept talking with a new found hope.

“I’ve been trying to find the right thing to say for 3 weeks. And I still couldn’t find it –but I need to fix this. I need to make things right again. I’ve… never been good at talking honestly without hurting someone, but if there’s one thing I can say without being afraid and holding back, is that you’re… you’re too important for me to lose. There’s simply no explanation for the things I did and said to you before and after everything went downhill, but you need to understand… _I can’t lose you.”_

When Bruce suddenly laughed bitterly, Clara spared a confused look at him. “You should’ve seen Jason when he found out Joker was involved,” said Bruce, shaking his head. “He was _furious._ He left the manor without telling anyone, then returned half an hour later, saying that he had found Harley and Ivy. He wanted to come to Joker’s warehouse personally, but Dick and Alfred convinced him to stay back. I’m not going to lie, I wanted to let him come, help me beat the living lights out of Joker, but… I couldn’t. You, your ideals, your words stopped me. I needed to be worthy of the value you always gave me. Y’know, some days it’s the only thing stopping me from doing something bad. Some people are optional in people’s lives –but it’s different for me when it’s you. I need you.”

“I tried to stay away every time you called, I watched you the ten days you were in coma and the week after that. I watched you when none of your friends asked you where you’ve been, I’ve listened to every voice mail you left, read every mail you sent –but I couldn’t come and see you. I couldn’t hold your hand when you were at the medbay, couldn’t come to your apartment when you were recovering, couldn’t tell you no one ever asked because I’ve told them you were chasing a story in Gotham, so that they wouldn’t bother you with questions. I couldn’t do any of that –not after all the hell you’ve been through _because of me._ I couldn’t… because I thought it was what I had to do.”

“But I’m tired of pretending that I’m not capable of human emotions, I’m too tired of concealing my… feelings. Clara, I’m…” _too tired of acting like I’m not in love with you._ “I’m sorry.”

As a couple of seconds passed with silence, Bruce felt like his insides were cramping. His heart was beating wildly inside of his chest, telling him to do something. How could he feel like he had to be away from a person, but the only thing he needed was to be right next to them?

“Did Alfred talk you into this?” asked Clara silently.

Bruce’s eyes widened, how did everyone know that Alfred would have to talk him into this, this easily? He lowered his eyes. “Yes.”

“You got help from your kids to prepare your apology?”

“No,” he stated with a clear voice. “It was all me.”

He couldn’t see Clara’s eyes but he noticed her cocked eyebrow. “It was a good one,” said Clara, voice devoid of… practically everything. “I’m impressed.”

They kept sitting there silently for almost five agonizing minutes. Bruce took that time to examine Clara’s scar-free face and arms. He still remembered the fury he felt when he saw his insignia on her chest, bright with blood. Bruce wondered if that, along with other bruises and ugly letters, was healed as well. He wanted nothing more than to lift Clara’s red armless sweater, gently peal her off of her white shirt and black suit pants and just… caress every inch of her with all the tenderness he could manage. 

But that was never going to happen –because like always, he had ruined everything.

Bruce bittersweetly smiled to himself and got up without a word. But before he could walk away, a warm and strong hand grabbed his wrist, effectively stopping him.

“I don’t want to see that smile on your face ever again,” Clara said as she got up and stood as tall as him.

“W-what?”

“That half-hearted, broken and full of sadness little smile. I never want to see it again.” Clara took a step forward, putting one hand on the lapels of his jacket and cupping his face with the other. She finally looked up at him with a bright smile and brighter eyes. Bruce could never understand how no one ever noticed Clara in a crowd with those otherworldly blue eyes. But then again, maybe it was a good thing –for him, anyway. “Because it’s not how _my Bruce_ is supposed to smile.”

Bruce felt his lips part with surprise and stretch uncontrollably to the sides with her words.  
Clara caressed his cheek adoringly. “You’re one stupid, pigheaded, cocky and dramatic dork, Bruce Wayne.”

He didn’t know who started moving first, but in seconds, he could feel the sweet brush of Clara’s soft lips –and suddenly he could breathe right again.

As they practically devoured each other after years of longing, Bruce slightly started to steer Clara to the round table. Their kiss became more passionate but nothing less than loving in mere seconds and Bruce felt shaken with such intensity. He gently lifted her on the table, guiding her legs to circle his waist. 

Knowing that Clara could do this for a very long time without the need to breath –and that excited Bruce profoundly- he slightly pulled away when the need of oxygen became too much. As they stared at each other’s gasping and panting faces, Clara reached for him and cupped the back of Bruce’s head, playing with the short strands of his messed up hair in a way that sent shivers down his spine. She looked at him with the bluest of eyes and murmured, “I love you, Bruce.”

Bruce silently gasped with emotion. There they were, the words that Bruce thought no one would mutter to him with honesty as open as Clara’s. He wanted to say it back, whisper it to her body, scream it to the rest of the world to hear but at that moment, he responded in the only way he thought would be the best. He pulled her into his arms for an embrace and leaned down to kiss her again.

Then… _the motherfucking door opened._

As Clara’s friends, Lois and Jimmy came in, idly chatting about something Bruce didn’t even give a fuck, they hurriedly tried to broke apart before being seen –but it was already too late. The newcomers abruptly stopped moving and talking as the four of them just stared at each other.

Then in a flash –literally- Jimmy’s camera clicked and the boy started to run outside, disappearing faster than a speedster.

“Well, I most definitely didn’t see it coming, but I shoulda known,” drawled out Lois, a brow cocked with surprise and amusement. “If I found any piece of clothing in here, I’ll tell Perry, you hear me, Smallvile? And you,” she pointed to Bruce. “Take her to some place nice, would you? God, this is gonna be the biggest gossip of the year, Vicki Vale will be as purple as a freaking eggplant. Hmm, need a flashy headline… Beauty and the Billionaire… Brucie settles down with Smallville’s Clara Kent…”

As her voice started to fade behind the closed door, Bruce and Clara stared at the door for a good minute –before Clara slowly started to crack up. And Bruce couldn’t help himself but join in her hearty laugh.

Later, when they managed to quiet down after about five minutes, Clara turned to look at Bruce and traced her warm fingers on every curve and plain of his sculpted face, coming to a stop on his exquisite lips. She smiled as she gently kissed them. “There, you look even more beautiful with a smile.”

Bruce felt himself go red like a high school boy with a crush as she kept caressing his cheeks and playing with his hair.

“I can get Jimmy to delete the photo if you want.”

“Nah.” Bruce grinned. “Let him be. Actually, I think I should give both of them a raise for this. For once it feels real… _You_ feel real.”

 _‘Sweet turmoils,’_ Alfred had said. Well, Bruce just _had to_ learn he should listen his butler in the hard way.

\----

_—Epilogue_

_**‘GOTHAM’S FAVORITE SON AND METROPOLIS’ GOLDEN REPORTER: WILL IT LAST?’** Story by Cat Grant. Photo by anonymous._

Without even glancing at whatever was writing in the article, Dick threw his head back and shouted, “JASOOON?! YOU FUCKING OWE ME 50 BUCKS!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A.N.: And the rest is history with how Bruce makes Clara’s reproductive system work as frequently as possible and all that. 
> 
> —For my best friend Sierra, your Kent loves you Mr. Wayne ;)


End file.
